


Ozone Kisses

by HypnosThanatosTwin



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Fluff, Hurt/sometimes Comfort, M/M, Magical Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-06-06 19:19:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6766618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HypnosThanatosTwin/pseuds/HypnosThanatosTwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"One of his first memories is his mum telling him to keep it secret. Forcing him to swear to never tell anyone, never reveal what he is capable of. He remembers not understanding but still nodding and swearing to never tell a soul."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Trying my hand at another Coldwave story. Enjoy :D

One of his first memories is his mum telling him to keep it secret. Forcing him to swear to never tell anyone, never reveal what he is capable of. He remembers not understanding but still nodding and swearing to never tell a soul. He didn't yet realize the power of promises. And in the years to come he sometimes hated her for it. For forcing him into this form, for separating him from the power, the warmth. He didn't care that she was the same, he didn't care that she was terrified for him and had done it only to protect him. She stole his freedom and never released him even after his father beat her or his sister or him. 

When their dad hit Lisa he could feel the heat lick up his throat, could feel his teeth ache with the shift, could imagine his shoulders unfurling into wings and his fingers turning to claws. But the words spoken as a child had been strong, the trust between mother and child making them almost unbreakable. As soon as he could feel the heat building it vanishes, leaving him cold. He can't stand the heat reminding him what he cannot have. 

He can never tell his sister, she's human like their dad, but he makes sure that she is as protected as he can manage. He gifts her with jewels and precious metals, taking care that it is something that matches her style, knowing that the jewels can never overshadow the pureness of her eyes and the gold would never be worth more than her smile. Lisa gets used to it before she is old enough to question it and soon demands presents from him. He can never refuse her. 

They catch him stealing because of dumb luck. He had calculated everything down to the second and it still went wrong. Being in juvie, fourteen and skinny as shit, still waiting for that growth spurt to happen, is another reminder that this would all be easier if he could only be himself. He curses his mother and his own stupidity when three kids surround him for being a smartass and one of them pulls a knife. It's not a steel blade, but cold iron and the unsheathed presence alone makes him shiver, frost settling in his core, freezing his veins. He longs for the protection of his scales.

He knows he is about to die and wishes he could find a way around his promise, because death is not something he wants to suffer. He kicks at the others, tries to get a few punches in, but all he gets are a few more bruises.

The one holding the blade steps closer and Len clenches his fists, preparing for a final fight, clenching his teeth so they wont chatter from the cold.

“Hey!” the voice is rough, broken by puberty and his attackers turn towards it like a flock of startled birds. The youth approaching them is tall and broad-shouldered, real muscle starting to build on a sturdy frame and Len cannot help but stare. The shiver running through him for the first time not from cold. Their eyes meet and Len can barely stop his instincts. Here is something he wants to possess.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Magic, Werewolves, Vampires, Fairies and all that other stuff from the nighttime stories. Mick knows they exist, but he doesn't really believe in them. He has never met any and he doesn't really expect to meet one. Magic users are arrogant pricks, who no-one dares to steal from and the creatures are in hiding, because not so long ago they were hunted down and sold for parts. Even today he sometimes catches the news that smugglers have been found, turned inside out by fairies, or some rich maniac has been blown up with his own private zoo. 

What he gets from all of that is that messing with the supernatural will only get you killed, so he stays away from it. He stays away from any-one, really. (Because he himself isn't safe, the fire distracts him, consumes him, and sometimes he finds that the flames have eaten everything else that was close to him.)

But then he meets Len. He saves the kid from getting knifed. The wannabe killers scatter as soon as he nears and sapphire blue eyes catch his. Mick knows he has never been looked at like this. Like he is something good. Like he is worth something. Naturally he doesn't want anything to do with the kid. He doesn't get to choose. 

Despite how many times he tells the kid to go away (threatens really) Len stays, and talks and smiles. It makes something painful flutter in his chest and he wants to punch him to make it stop. (But even that doesn't stop the kid from following him, it just makes the pain in his chest worse, when Len shrugs the violence off as if he is used to it.) He switches to punch the other kids instead, for their leers and remarks. (He doesn't need them to see that Len is pale like snow, that his eyes are sharp and knowing, that his smiles (only for Mick) are warm and welcoming.)

Len gets out of juvie first and Mick thinks that this is it. He'll probably never see him again. He should have known better. 

Four months later he's out and a week after he has settled in with the new foster-parents, he leaves the house and Len greets him with a smile. He finally had his growth spurt and is now almost as tall as Mick. His eyes are still sapphire blue (Mick had thought he had imagined that) and he still looks at him as if he is worth something (he probably is imagining that).

It is much harder to resist the kid when they are alone. He makes Mick smile, makes him laugh and the pain in Micks chest worsens into something almost choking. When Mick sets something on fire to stare at the flames, Len looks … jealous. It amuses Mick greatly. (One time he even hears Len mutter something like “Inferior flame, could never match-” but he doesn't continue that sentence.)

They pull a few jobs together. They make a good team. 

Mick meets Lisa and knows how important this has become, with the way Len looks at his sister as if she is the most precious thing in the world. 

Len is seventeen when he kisses Mick for the first time. There is nothing nervous about it, just a kiss and a smile and a “Your turn.” and before Mick can get over the surprise, the shock really, he finds himself pulling Len back towards himself and kissing him as if he has been starving for him for years. (Maybe he has.) Len tastes like smoke and ozone, like heat and what he imagines fire might taste like. Mick can barely bring himself to stop kissing him. 

“You're mine.” Len breathes across Micks lips and the agony in Micks chest releases into something even more terrible. Love.

When Len turns eighteen, Mick stands outside an open door, listening in on a conversation between Len and his mom. He was supposed to wait in the entrance hall, but curiosity got the better of him. He catches a glimpse of Len kneeling at his mothers side, his pale fingers reaching for her dark hand. 

“Will you release me?” Len asks in a whisper, his voice soft but urgent, hurt and frightful (Mick has never heard him speak like that). “Mother, _please_.” 

There is a long moment of silence, Mick catches another glance inside the room and sees dark green eyes studying Lens face and Mick turns away because he has never seen something this broken. 

He hears the “I release you of your promise, son.” while he moves back towards were he was supposed to wait. He tries not to think about it when Len joins him for his birthday celebrations. Tries to push it away when Len seems to vibrate with an uncontainable energy that threatens to break out at the seams. His kisses seem hotter, no longer smoke-flavoured, but the taste of ozone more prominent. He tries not to think about it when Len disappears for a few weeks to “stretch my wings” and returns shining with happiness and his bony frame starting to fill out with real muscle. 

He definitely does not think about it when Len entwines their fingers and pulls him outside so they can sit by a fire that shines almost white with heat. A fire that is hotter than any flame Mick has ever seen before. A fire he can't take his eyes off of, while Len hums and grins like a cat.

Mick knows that a lot of people think he is not all that intelligent. (Len thinks he's brilliant, but Len loves him and doesn't count.) But when he thinks about that scene and everything else he has seen and heard in the years since he met Len, he has to admit to himself, that maybe he fell in love with a dragon.

He didn't think the feeling in his chest could get any worse, but he was proven wrong in that moment. He would never let go of Len now.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoped you liked this for a little prologue :)


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the changed rating. Yeah, so I haven't written smut in a loooong time. Hope it's not so bad.

**Central City – 2015**

Len tries to ignore the nervous blubbering of the half-gnome besides him as he studies the weapons presented to himself. 

“This one shoots fire as hot as a dragons.” the little man proclaims and Len has to stop himself from laughing. But he turns the gun in his hand, studying the design, the mechanics he can see from the outside and shoots into the empty space besides him. The weapons dealer on his other side eeps and flinches violently as a stream of bright red-orange flames lights up the warehouse. 

Len releases the trigger and studies the weapon again. It's nothing like dragon fire, but it is a decent flame and Mick would love it. A sting of old jealousy flits in his heart but he pushes it aside with practiced ease. 

“It's not what I was looking for, but it is something for a friend of mine.” Len drawls towards the weapons dealer. “I'm looking for something a little... colder.” The man wrings his hands but leads him to another box. Len has never seen anybody so cliché and he would be worried about a trap, if he didn't know that the man was nervous because he could feel something powerful in Len. His half-blood nature didn't reveal what Len was, but it told the man enough to be terrified. Len was planning to use that to his full advantage when negotiating for a price. 

The half-gnome hands him another gun, this one even more looking as if it came out of a sci-fi show. 

“This one shoots, well cold.” he says and Len turns it over. It has a good weight and the balance feels natural in his hands. He flicks on the switch and it lights up. He can already feel the cold seeping into his skin and he enjoys it. It is a soothing breeze against his heated skin. He points it in the same direction as he had the other gun and squeezes the trigger. This time a bright blue stream escapes and the air around them turns drastically colder. He stops and sees that the floor and the tables are coated with a thin layer of steaming ice. Perfect. 

“I'll take both.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Mick enters their warehouse knowing he'll find a brooding and grumpy Len. He has seen the news and knows that the heist on the armored truck didn't go as planned. That Len didn't get the diamond he had been after. So he is fully prepared to be confronted with a pissed of dragon and trying to stop his partner from just eating the Flash. What he isn't prepared for is Len smiling at him as soon as he sees Mick. (It's the smile only Mick gets and that he is still kinda sure he does not deserve.)

“I have a present for you.” his partner begins and Mick narrows his eyes. Way before even their first kiss, Len had tried to shower him with presents (he had tried to be subtle, but he really hadn't been). Mainly with precious stones and a gold watch or two, Mick had quickly put a stop to that, feeling too much like a girl being courted (and after he found out what Len was, he realized that was exactly what it had been!). Since then presents from Len were rare. “And before you even start protesting, take a look first.”

He takes the box from Len and opens it. Inside is an oddly shaped gun with two small tanks and strange looking tubing. Len steps up behind him, his arms sneaking around Micks middle. 

“Come on, give it a try.” he says, his hot breath ghosting across Micks shoulders. Mick points it into the empty part of their warehouse and pulls the trigger. His breath stutters in his chest. 

“You got me a flame-thrower.” he says in awe as the fire blazes in a glorious stream of heat in front of him. Len nuzzles his neck and his blunt nails scratch at Micks skin under his shirt. 

“Do you like it?” he asks against Micks skin and Mick is a little too overwhelmed to answer with words. Instead he puts the gun away and roughly pulls Len around to smash their mouths together in a passionate kiss. Len whimpers happily and presses closer, while Mick pushes him backwards until they have reached the more lived-in part of their ware-house. He throws him onto the sturdy bed in the corner and tries to get out of his clothes as fast as possible, while Len slips out of his with an unnatural grace, blue eyes blazing with an inner fire.

This time Len pulls him forwards, losing his patience and throws Mick onto his back to straddle him. Micks hands rub up Lens back and he feels the bones and muscles shift beneath hot skin. 

“Show them to me.” he breathes and Len grins with teeth far sharper than just a moment before. With a moan that vibrates through his chest, Len rolls their hips together and a pair of great, leathery wings bursts from his back. Steam rises off them and Mick reaches one hand around Lens ass to slip one finger inside, while the other settles on the base of one of the wings, knowing they were highly sensitive when just released. Len almost collapses from the double sensation and growls at him. Mick just pushes himself up, shuts him up with a kiss and adds another finger. 

Lens hands had been trailing along his body, their heat blazing a trail of lust along his skin, and have now found their way towards their cocks. Clever, too hot fingers squeeze them together, while Len rocks between Micks fingers and his own. Mick can't stop the gasp and moan from his own lungs now and Len swallows them up with a laugh. 

“I guess you do like your gift, huh?” Len drawls with a triumphant grin and Mick adds a third finger just to spite him. Lens grin turns into another gasp and his wings stretch with pleasure. Sweat slicks their skin from the heat between them, Len running hotter with every breath. Lens eyes meet Micks and Mick pulls his fingers out, relishing in the hunger he sees in those blue, blue orbs. 

Len positions himself and before Mick can brace himself, he is swallowed up into an almost painful heat. Len throws his head back with a moan and Mick can see a faint orange glow in the dark of his mouth. Knowing he has to be fast before he gets burned, he turns them around, being careful to spread the wings comfortingly on the bed. He presses a kiss to the corner of his partners mouth, knowing he will burn his tongue if he slips inside (he is very tempted to do it anyway) and starts pounding into Len. Len grins and writhes under him, scratching at Micks thighs, wings curling around them and shivering with pleasure. 

They don't last much longer. Len arches up with a growl, wings pushing him higher against Mick and Mick pressing deeper into Len, arms coming around his partner and pulling him flush against himself as his vision whites out and the contractions of Lens orgasm squeeze him dry. 

He huffs against Lens neck and feels the responding grin against his shoulder. 

“I'll never be able to use that gun without thinking about fucking you, now.” he sighs when they have caught their breath, after collapsing on the bed. Len chuckles and grins even wider with satisfaction.

“I know.” 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The next evening Mick returns to his partner fully shifted and purring fondly at the fist-sized diamond in front of him. Mick sets down the two duffle-bags full of money (he had been busy as well, okay?) and wanders over towards the white-gray dragon. 

Len fully shifted and curled up like that is almost as big as a small cabin. (There is a reason why they live in a ware-house.) It always stuns Mick to see him like that. He caresses Lens long neck, watching his fingers glide over the smooth, white scales, fascinated by the blue shimmer the light throws on them. When he reaches the head, his fingers wander towards one of the horns, taking a good hold of the deep gray spike. 

“I see the cold gun was a success.” Mick states and sits down besides Len, leaning against his neck. The agreeing hum from Len vibrates through all of Micks bones. 

“I see you took out your heat gun for a spin.” Len answers and his head turns around to look at him. Sapphire blue meets hazel and they both grin. Len shifts so that he is curled around Mick and his gigantic wings settle around them like blankets. Mick settles into the nook of Lens body and wing, relishing in the warmth radiating around him. 

They talk for awhile like that, just catching up on their day. Then they settle into a comfortable silence, dozing with half-closed eyes. 

“We'll have to go fly soon.” Mick says, fingers absently stroking along one of the spines of the wing covering him.

“Yes.” Len breathes dreamily. “Let's go fly together.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it :)


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot... hm... I think it found me :)

Lisa grows up in a house of constant troubles. Even the non-violent, calm stretches involve her mothers silent, conflicted and miserable gaze, her brother swallowing his temper again and again (Every time she sees him hold back his reply, she expects him to finally explode.) and her fathers dismissal of their emotions. It doesn't mean they aren't any happy moments in her childhood, because her brother was still the best she could have asked for, it just means she was not conflicted about moving out as soon as she could. 

The youngest Snart does not really care for the supernatural, she learned a few spells to help her through life (really, they are not that hard, she doesn't know why everyone thinks it is unusual) but otherwise, she prefers to keep to the normal humans. She buys herself a little apartment in Central City (with stolen money, of course) and reserves one of the rooms for her treasures. She does not really question it, but over the years she's grown very fond of everything gold. She blames her brother and his constant presents for her obsession. She just can't give it away (she has not sold a single peace of gold she's got her hands on), the stones she sometimes had to sell, because she needed the money, but the gold she keeps. 

Sometimes she would sit among her treasure and would feel incredibly at peace seeing the candle-light reflect off of the many pieces of the precious metal. Lisa has warded that room with the one big spell she learned and has installed as much protection as she can (even her brother couldn't get in there without her permission). Len sometimes laughs at her and calls it her little horde, which makes Lisa frown and Mick laugh with him. 

When Lisa is thirty and still looks like twenty-three she just shrugs and blames good genes. Look at her brother, it obviously runs in the family. She spends the years traveling and finding more and more pieces for her treasure room. Sometimes, when she hasn't been able to acquire jewelry, art or plain gold coins in a few weeks, she grows restless and irritated. Her temper flares and everyone of her friends runs for cover. It grows like a hunger inside her and in these moments, it frightens her. Most of the time, Len shows up with another present. 

“To appease your wrath, sister.” he says and she huffs at him, but thanks him because it does soothe her hunger. 

When she helps Mick and her brother kidnap Cisco (he is apparently a genius) and his brother to force the scientist to built the guns Len and Mick had lost, she pouts at Len, demanding her own special gun. He, as always, does not deny her. She kisses Cisco as thanks for her perfect weapon (he tries to flinch away and press closer, it amuses her greatly) and decides to stick around for a while.

It's a few turbulent months in which they help and betray the Flash, steal a lot of things and gain a reputation in the criminal underworld. 

They're on a perfectly normal job (robbing a bank) when she is struck from behind and darkness encroaches. She just sees Len being pulled into a van and feels a mean sting in her neck before everything grows dark. 

Lisa wakes up with a groan and Mick hovering over her. 

“Ugh... what happened?” she asks and Mick growls, clearly unhappy. 

“Somebody snatched Len and knocked you out. I grabbed the money and you and tried to get in contact with Len, but no word.” Mick says as he paces and flicks his lighter on and off. Lisa tentatively feels at the lump at the side of her head and tries not to get dizzy. She recognizes the couch she is lying on as the one in the boys warehouse and her eyes sweep the place (Len's thinking place in one corner with all his plans and schematics, Micks work space along one wall, soldering irons, metal pieces, wires and chips littering every surface. The bed (just one) in the other corner, and here the couch, besides her the kitchen and a door leading up to the upper floor with the bathroom, guest room and storage-rooms), she never understood why they left half the place empty. An uneasy dread settles in her gut as she can't find Len anywhere. 

“What do we do? Has there been any word? A demand?” she asks worried, her mind whirls with the scenarios. Why would somebody snatch her brother? Mick growls again, still pacing and flicking his lighter. 

“No.” his hand clenches the silver in his hand and she can see that his fingers are too close to the flame. She stands, careful of any lingering dizziness and moves into his path. Mick stops in front of her, his eyes angry but not at her. 

The first time she met Mick she could not understand why her brother would even want to spend any time with this crazy person. Sure, he was fun but he was also insane and self-destructive. She asked Len why once, why he chose Mick for a friend (partner in crime, lover) and he had answered her “Because, little sister, you have your gold and I have my treasure in a human heart.” only confusing her further. 

She thinks she knows now, after Mick has become like a second brother to her. She reaches out and pries his fingers away from the flame, noting that he doesn't flinch as the angry red skin stretches. She takes his lighter and shuts it, putting it into his other hand. 

“Don't hurt yourself, Mick. Len wont like it.” Don't punish yourself, she wants to say, but knows it is useless. 

“I don't know what we can do.” he sighs roughly, clenching both his hands again, his frame shivers with frustration and Lisa knows the feeling. “Don't you know a trick to find him?” he asks and means her spells. Now it is Lisas turn to sigh. 

“No, you know I can only do small things.” they discuss some ideas (some things get thrown in frustration and maybe there is some shouting involved) in the end they are out of options and Lisa frowns, tears threaten to fill her eyes, because she feels helpless and Len is missing. 

“We could use the Flash.” Mick says, his expression unwilling but as desperate as hers. She frowns. 

“Why would he help us?” Mick shrugs, his expression strange. 

“Len has a _thing_ with him, some kind of arrangement about not killing people. Apparently the Flash thinks your brother could be one of the good guys if he wanted to.” Lisa studies Mick and snorts. Mick is jealous! 

“That's cute. We all know my brother is the best, if he's killing people or not. So the Flash's a goody two-shoes. The least we can do is ask. How do we contact him?” she asks Mick, because surely Len had at least told _him_ the identity of the Flash. Mick's face grows more sour and Lisa stops herself from grimacing. When this is over, she'll pull Len aside to clear this up with Mick, because apparently this seemed to be a genuine concern on Micks side. 

“Okay, I guess we ask another person who knows the identity of the Flash.” she had planned to meet up with Cisco anyway.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Barry enters _Saints & Sinners_ and doesn't know what to expect. He does not expect Snart to be sitting at a table munching on some fries, though he is eating them with the most furious expression Barry has seen on Snarts face so far. He sits down opposite him, noting Snarts calculating look. 

“Barry, funny to meet you here.” Snart greets him in his usual drawl. 

“Yeah, I don't die so easily as you know.” Barry replies, a little bitter about the earlier encounter with Leonard and Lewis Snart. Cold continues eating, stabbing the fries into the sauce with what seems like frustration. Barry sighs and breaks the silence.

“I talked to your sister, she says you hate your father.” he leads and Snart stops picking at his food and pushes the plate away as if he's lost his appetite. 

“You know how it is with family, it's complicated.” the criminal looks up at him then and Barry is met with cold eyes. “This would be a lot easier, if I was allowed to kill him.” This is the prove that something is going on. Ever since they made their deal, Snart had almost playfully followed the rules they had set out. He had not killed anybody, he had not told anybody Barrys real identity. It had to be something bad for Snart to want to change the rules. Which they had kind of suspected, but have now confirmed. 

“Do you need my permission?” Barry asks a little surprised, partly teasing but his smile vanishes as Snarts face remains closed of. 

“This is your rule, I am asking for a, let's say, _Joker._ ”

“I'm not giving you permission to kill your father, Snart.” Barry hisses, shocked at even the implication that he would. Cold narrows his eyes. “Just tell me what is going on, maybe I can help.”

Snart grimaces and Barry catches a glimpse of teeth that are far too jagged, far too sharp to be human, then he sighs and Barry shakes himself, because those teeth are perfectly normal. Cold graces him with a sarcastic smile. 

“If you haven't figured it out, you can't help me. I made a deal.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“That's what he said? 'I made a deal?'” Mick Rory demands as Barry recounts the encounter he had with Leonard Snart. 

“Yeah.” he nods and the other man begins cursing. Lisa Snart frowns at Rory, looking as confused as the rest of them. “Is that important?” 

“Yes, you need to figure out what is going on.” the arsonist begins pacing and mutters under his breath. “He wouldn't be trapped again, not without a very good reason, the only thing he would do it for-” he stops and turns around towards Colds sister. She's absentmindedly rubbing at her neck as Rory grabs that arm and she looks up at him with surprise. 

“What is up with your neck?” he asks and her brows draw together in confusion, before her eyes widen. 

“It's sore.” she whispers in realization and turns towards Cisco. “There was a sharp pain in my neck just before I passed out when Lenny was taken, could you-”

“Scan it, run some diagnostics? Sure.” Cisco replies. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

There is a bomb in Lisas neck. Mick tries to breathe slowly. In and out. He really has to fight with the furious rage inside of him and he can't imagine what Len has to be feeling right now. Can't imagine the restraint Len has to force on himself not to change and kill this man with teeth and claws. Lisa is fiddling with the bangles at her wrists, the touch of gold familiar and calming to her and Mick tries to find that calm in himself. 

“I didn't think he would sink this low.” Lisa whispers to him. The Flash is currently undercover, helping Len with the job he's been forced into and the other two from the geek squad are tinkering on the opposite side of the room, trying to built something to get the bomb out.

Mick nods and stays silent, knowing the Snart siblings well enough not to comment on their family circumstances. 

“I sometimes wish Lenny wouldn't care so much.” she almost breathes and Micks heart pounds in his ears, because he knows the feeling. 

“He loves you more than anyone Lisa, that is not a weakness, it's what makes him human.” he hurries to say, because it is the truth and he has learned that Lisa is sometimes unsure of her worth. She looks up at him knowingly. 

“He loves you just the same, Mick. It's just another kind of love.” she says shaking her head at him. His throat closes up with fear, because he has seen the love Len holds for his sister and he knows that Len loves him, but he had never thought just as much. 

“You know, in the year you were separated, when you almost got yourself killed.” she begins and her eyes become distant with memory. Mick remembers that year well, because he had thought he had lost Len to his own stupid obsession with fire. He remembers Len furiously shouting at him while dragging him out of the flames. He remembers waking up in the hospital with an unfamiliar name, alone and his arms and chest all bandaged up. He remembers trying to contact Len and only finding a letter in his neat script, saying that he needed time. 

“I've never seen Len as devastated as after almost losing you to that fire.” Lisa shudders at the memory. “He disappeared for a while, you know how he sometimes just hikes through the forests in the north-west. He came back so thin...” she trails off but shakes herself from the memory. “It was the first time I realized that he only smiles for you.” 

Her fingers are cold when she reaches for his and a shiver goes through him, from the cold or something else, he doesn't know. “If it were you instead of me, I would be worried for this city, because he wouldn't care for anything else but to protect you.”

Mick swallows and nods, accepting her little speech, because he knows. If something should ever happen to Mick, Len will raze the city to the ground. Mick knows it will end in fire and blood, while Lisa assumes Len will wreck havoc with all the connections he has formed over the years, cashing in all the favors he has acquired. The day Mick dies, Central City will burn. (Mick tries not to think about the fact, that dragons live hundreds of years and that Lens human form only ages because he wills it.)

“I've got it!” Cisco shouts happily from the other side of the room, holding up a strange contraption. Lisa squeezes Micks hands and stands to walk towards the young genius.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Lisa is safe, Lewis Snart is back in prison and Len has grabbed Mick and they have driven out of the city, deep into their familiar forests until they are at the lake they sometimes visited for flying. They arrive in the middle of the night and as soon as Mick has stopped the car, Len opens the door and jumps out into the darkness. There's a loud rush of air and then the most bone rattling roar he has ever heard. His heart seizes as his hind-brain quakes with long forgotten instincts of fear and survival. 

Instead of driving away to safety, he leaves the car, telling his hind-brain to fuck off, because this is Len. Furious, wrathful Len, but still his and he is safe with him. In the moonlight Len is a pale shimmer in the sky, angrily twisting through the air. The first burst of fire strikes the edge of the lake, the white flames radiating intense heat, leaving behind a cloud of steam and red glowing stones.

Mick settles down against a fallen tree just by the shore and watches Len as the dragon tries to get out all of his pent up anger and frustration. It takes more than an hour before Len lands a little away from him and walks over. The white scales shiver with exhaustion and Mick steps away from the log. Before he knows it, Len has curled around him, warm scales and wings wrapping him up and protecting him from the sharp cold winds that find their way from the lake to the shore. Mick strokes the scales beneath his hand and a long, soulful whine escapes the great beast around him. 

The arsonist presses against Len, comforting him and taking comfort. Len might not be able to kill someone, but Mick has never made any promises. And a lot of things can happen to people in prison.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it :)


	4. Interlude: Len

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse of the past and future. Enjoy.

Len is eighteen and for the first time since he can remember, the fire within him is no longer suffocated. It burns through him and it is a challenge to keep it contained. He kisses Mick good bye and leaves for a few weeks. He takes his motorcycle and drives out of the city, out of the small towns and into the wide open stretches of wilderness. He knows hundreds of people get lost in these woods every year, there are rumors about fairies leading you astray, creatures that hunt you in the night, the woods are still respected by the humans. 

But he is no longer forced to be a human. He can now finally be what he was born to be. 

Len stops his bike at the edge of the deep forest. He feels the magic that would drive a human mind away and places his hand just above that invisible barrier. 

“I seek a safe place.” he speaks, fire glowing in the back of his throat. He can feel the barrier shiver and the resistance towards him fade. A sigh escapes him as he steps forward and starts to walk deeper into the woods. 

He walks for three hours, the trees get taller, the leaves above him start to block out the sun. He is lost in a green twilight and feels no fear. There is a beacon outside these woods, a light he will always find his way back to, a heart he has marked as his and he will never give back. He will never really be lost as long as he can find his way back to Mick.

Len walks downhill for another hour and breaks out of the trees to come upon a shore. The lake stretching out before him is so wide he can almost see the curve of the earth. This place is not on any map, no type of technology can find it. He breathes in the pure air and slowly breathes out, tiny white flames lick from his mouth. 

He starts to take of his jacket and slips out of his shirt, shoes and trousers. He bundles his clothes into a ball and puts them at the foot of a nearby tree, were he has already put his backpack and food. He turns toward the lake again and steps out onto the shore. Cool round stones press against the skin of his feet, the air is unnaturally still around him, as if it too was holding its breath. Len comes to a stop and closes his eyes. 

For a moment he fears that he can't do it, that his true form has been suppressed so long that it has been suffocated. That what he felt now were only the last high flames before his fire went out. Then Len pushes those thoughts away and breathes deeply. This should come natural to him and it does. 

It starts as heat. Heat licks along his bones and teeth, runs along his muscles and shivers along his skin. He can feel the stretch of nerves, the connections made for new limbs, the shift of organs as they rearrange themselves, as new grow and others shrink away. His skin rustles as it is replaced by scales, some smooth like silk, some rough like stone. Len shakes himself as he notices the stretch of horns breaking through his scales, sharp spikes grow along his head, growing smaller further down his spine.

When Len feels settled, when everything has stopped moving, he opens his eyes and sees the world for the first time in a long while. The sky is no longer blue, but a faint green and he knows it will turn a brilliant, star sparkling emerald in the night. All the colors have shifted and he can taste the air for heat. 

He takes a careful step forwards, not used to walk on four limbs any more, never having had the chance to get used to walk on four limbs. Len reaches the water and looks down into the now black looking fluid. His reflection looks back at him. He turns his head and looks at himself. He's too thin, his bones press against his scales, his muscles too narrow, too weak. His wings. He stretches the new limbs, a whole new part of his brain at work, and watches them unfold. They're so beautiful he wants to cry. A low whine escapes him and he turns forwards again, his gaze filled with determination. 

The first beat of his wings is clumsy and uncoordinated, by the eighth beat they're finally in sync with each other and the air around him whirls with their force. By the fourteenth he leaps into the air and kind of glides ungracefully for a few seconds. He does that until the sun goes down and he is exhausted beyond measure. His wings and shoulders ache with strain and his other limbs shake from fatigue. Len walks back towards where he hid his clothes and breathes a lick of white flames onto the round stones, making them glow with heat. He curls up in the middle of them and promptly falls to sleep. 

Night falls quickly after that. The sounds of the forest at night take over and there are calls from animals hunting and being hunted. The faint flutter of owl wings and the rustle of leaves in the night winds. The dragon doesn't notice any of that as he sleeps, but that doesn't mean he isn't noted. 

Three tiny pairs of eyes watch carefully from the darkness of the forest. Whispers are exchanged among them, barely loud enough to be heard by anyone but themselves. 

“A dragon.” one of them breathes. 

“A young dragon.” another one whispers. 

“Barely more than a baby.” the third one affirms. They sound in awe and worried. 

“What shall we do?” one asks.

“Nothing. Nothing.” another one shakes his head, eyes not leaving the sleeping dragon.

“A dragon, a dragon, we can't do nothing.” the third one decides. “We have to get the knight.” 

“Yes, yes.” one agrees. “The knight will want to know.”

Another one nods and turns into the forest. “I will get him.”

“We will wait.” the third one assures and silence settles between them.

Long moments pass and the moon rises above the lake, making its waves shimmer and lighting up the dragon, turning the scales into a mirror of itself. One gasps and leaves the darkness of the forest, the third one protesting but following the other. 

The small beings stepping into the light are barely more than air, their dragonfly wings seem to be spun from silk thread, their bodies and limbs see through, like half-shadows. Their eyes are like tiny sparks of fire on the wind. They rush towards the dragon until they are close enough to touch. 

“It's so thin.” one whispers worriedly, its hand caressing the scale in front of him.

“It's been in captivity.” the third one whispers back, the voice full of disgust and pity. “It stinks of the humans.”

“It does.” one agrees.

There is a loud rustle from the trees and steps can be heard as the knight approaches. The knight is a man and not a man. He visits the lake and the forest and disappears again, leaving centuries between his visits. He stinks of time. He has asked the beings living here to inform him if a dragon appears and some of them have agreed.

Another one joins its compatriots by the dragon and they watch as the knight sees the dragon for the first time. The mask hides his features but they are not human, they know what he feels and think anyways. They flutter over to the knight, tiny hands soothing over his armor.

“It is the one.” the third one says, knowing the whirl of emotions from the knight. 

“Should we wake it?” one asks the knight curiously.

“No.” the knight says, voice rough and distorted from the mask. “Let him sleep.”

“But you wanted to see.” another one says and the knight nods.

“Yes, but he is not mine yet.” the mechanic voice answers calmly, but they hear the pain anyway.

“Why are you not with yours then?” the third one inquires quietly. Even from behind the mask, they can tell the knight drinks in the sight of the dragon shining like the moon itself. 

“I lost him.” the knight whispers. “I lost him long ago and not long ago at all.” One tilts its head to the side, eyes narrowing.

“It isn't lost.” it says and the knight looks down at it. “You are its beacon, it will find you if you stand still long enough.” The breath of the knight stutters as he hears this.

“You should go back and wait for it to find you.” another one advises, nodding its head. The knight shakes himself out of his shock and looks back at the sleeping dragon. 

“I will try.” the knight says and turns away, vanishing in the darkness. The three of them stay until dawn breaks and they vanish with the first rays of the sun reaching over the mountains into the valley with the lake. The dragon stirs and yawns, mouth opening wide, dagger-sharp teeth glinting in the morning sun. 

After stretching his sore muscles Len shrinks and pulls at himself, compressing himself back into the confines of a human body. Not bothering with clothes he sits down besides his backpack and pulls out the food he brought. Until he is strong enough to fly, until he is fast enough to hunt, he will have to stick to human food. He can't wait for that day to arrive. 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it :)


	5. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here comes the Legends...

“Next stop Central City, we have another pair to pick up.” a man says, while sitting down in a futuristic looking chair. A female voice fills the room and answers him.

“Leonard Snart and Mick Rory.” she says like she is reading a file. “Sir, there appears to be a mistake, Leonard Snart is-”

“I know Gideon.” the man says as he fiddles with the controls of the chair. “They're criminals and not heroes like the others, but we're gonna need them for this mission.”

“Captain Hunter, Leonard Snart is a criminal and it seems he's -” Gideon tries to continue with her explanation of what she reads between the lines of the report the time masters have on Snart and Rory, but she gets interrupted again.

“- exactly what we will need for this mission, Gideon, I don't want to hear any more of it.” he orders, thinking he is cutting of more protests about the people he chose for his team. 

“Yes, Captain.” the voice answers. And they continue to pick up the two criminals. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They leave the roof-top with mixed feelings. Len refuses to think about the future, even though he'll probably still be alive when 2166 comes around, about to reach full maturity. Should he survive the purge of the supernatural, Hunter had mentioned. He doesn't really care, because by then Mick and Lisa will be dead. Who cares about being a hero anyway? 

Mick is deep in thought, shifting pieces of metal from one side of his work space to the other. He saw the world on fire today and was entranced as well as repulsed. It confuses him. He'd like to see the world burn, but not when he knows Len would suffer. (And in the back of his head he remembers a moment when he was eight and his parents had taken him and his siblings to a fair. A conversation with an old hag.) He doesn't care for billions of people, he doesn't know them. But Len will be alive in 2166 (if he doesn't get himself killed). If it is Lens world that needs saving? Well, there is little he wouldn't do.

Len is lying on the couch, trying to read one of his mathematics magazines, but Mick can feel his restlessness. He keeps shifting and rustles the pages trying to focus. Mick tries to distract himself, but it is not working either. 

“It's your future.” Mick breaks the silence between them and he doesn't have to turn around to know Len freezes at that. He can hear the strangled breath as his partner sits up. 

“I don't want it.” Len whispers, his voice shivering. This is the closest they've come to ever talk about it. That Len will survive Mick, that Len will live for hundreds, if not thousands, of years and Mick will only be around for a blink of that. 

“Think about it Lenny, time travel. We could steal some long lost shit, while searching and destroying an immortal asshole.” Mick tries to change roads, because, why start talking about this now? He turns around and Len gazes at him knowingly. Yeah, he didn't think his dragon would be fooled by that. 

Len sighs and stands. He takes the three steps needed to invade Micks space and Mick gets lost in sapphire blue eyes (yeah, there is the pain in his heart again). 

“If you wanna go, we'll go.” Len breathes against his lips, the scorching air sharp with ozone, making Mick shiver. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Len leaves early the next morning. If he'll go on a mission to save the world, he'll need an amendment to his little game with the Flash. Good thing he knows where Barry lives. 

He wakes the guy up with a coffee, trying to make the invasion of his home as non-threatening as possible. After the first shock, it is appreciated. They sit down in the kitchen, Allen dressed and ready for the day in the count of five seconds. 

“What do you want, Snart?” he asks and Len can't help but smirk at the superhero. 

“I'm sure one of the heroes already told you about this venture through time we've all been invited to.” he begins in his usual drawl, the one he can't help to use when he is speaking to the hero-types. “I'm here to change the rules of our game, just a little.” 

Len sees he has Allens attention now. The Flash looks at him for a long moment and Len can see the realization hit him. He waits for the shock to leave the young mans face, for him to get his voice back. It takes a lot longer than five seconds and he enjoys every moment of it. 

“You _do_ need my permission!” Barry gasps, still shocked. “What- your bound by your word. You- why would you?” he struggles through his realization and Len waits patiently until Allen forms a question. “What are you?”

Len smiles and shakes his head. “As if I would tell you, not even my sister knows.” he shoots the Flash a sharp look. “And she wont hear it from you.” Allen shakes his head and it almost makes Len dizzy just seeing the fast pace the kid applies. “You'd appreciate the irony, I'm sure.” Len smirks but turns serious after a second. 

“I do need a change of rules, though.” he reiterates and Barry gets over his shock and starts frowning. “I would change it to, I'm not allowed to kill innocents.” he suggests and Allens frown deepens. 

“Innocent is pretty vague and open to interpretation.” the Flash points out. Len smiles at him in a vaguely friendly way. 

“You'll just have to trust my judgment.” 

Allen sighs and rubs at his face. He studies Lens face as if trying to read his mind. Then he nods.

“Okay, you can kill, but never an innocent.” Len sighs and speaks.

“I promise.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Their ride looks more like a space ship than a time ship, but who knows, it probably can go to space as well. Mick knows Len is disappointed that it is not bigger on the inside. The others arrive shortly. The Professor drives up in a midlife crisis car, his partner unconscious besides him. The others walk just up towards them. 

Sara catches first Micks and then Lens eyes and Mick feels something off about her. He doesn't know much about her, except that she's from Star City and the daughter of a cop (and a ninja-assassin, apparently). She seems not quite alive, though she looks perfectly healthy. He looks at Len while they enter the Waverider and he mouths “Banshee” at him with a pointed nod ahead towards Sara. Mick rises his eyebrows. 

Before they can really settle down or put away their stuff, they are already on their way to 1975 with all the side effects that contains. A barfight, a battle with a time hunter and a first betrayal of their captain later, Mick, Len and Sara are sitting among the boxes of the storage-room, listening to Rays pity-speech. 

“I've never been a fan of following the rules.” Len drawls and Ray looks over at him. Mick fiddles pointedly with his heat-gun at the starstruck look in the guys eyes. Sara looks from Len to Ray.

“Yeah, we're here to change the fate of the world, who says we can't change our own fates?” she agrees and Ray shifts his attention towards her. Mick relaxes and looks at Len as slender fingers brush his thigh. His partner smiles at him (the smile only he is given) and the final tension in Micks body leaves him. He doesn't have to really think about leaving this mission. Nothing changed, he still wants to make sure Len has a world left to live in.

Ray and Sara leave to sort their stuff into their bunks and Len leans against Mick, breathing him in. Micks arm settles around his shoulders and he turns to kiss his partner, short and sweet. 

“You were pretty silent, Boss.” Mick states and watches the frown on Lens face deepen. His dragon sighs.

“The headhunter...” he begins but hesitates. Mick tilts his head, so their heads lean against each other. 

“What about him?” Mick prompts after the silence stretches a few moments. 

“He feels… familiar.” Len continues, his gaze distant as he thinks back to the short fight. “Almost like-” he is interrupted by Gideon calling them back to the bridge.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A battle in Norway, another fight among the crew and a split of the team to save the more immediate future later, Len finds himself in one of his worst nightmares. Behind cold iron bars, sending ice through his vulnerable skin and freezing his bones as he strains against them, while Mick is on the other side, held hostage by a man, the creature they have all come together to kill. If Len didn't have a real reason to want to kill Savage before, he now wants to make this bastard suffer and despair before killing him over and over again.

“Len, don't!” Mick gasps out and Len snarls, not caring that the sound leaving him is barely human. He could melt this cage, could turn this place into ashes within minutes, but there is a gun to Micks head. The bullet would find its mark before the fire would reach Savage. Len tries to hold onto his cool mind, tries not to let the beast inside him win. He has managed to keep himself a secret for so many years, knowing that a lot of hunters would try to come after him. But Mick has always been the exception to his rules. He can feel the heat rising from his lungs like the anger in his veins and knows that the air he breathes out is toxic with ozone. If he breathes long enough, the house might explode with just one spark. 

“I don't think your friends will arrive in time.” Savage gleefully declares as he strikes Mick with his gun and lets him collapse onto the floor. The gun still points at Mick, but Savage is now open. Len can feel the shift just beneath his skin, despite the cold iron surrounding him, one second and he would blast this cage open with his form alone. Never mind that it would probably kill Ray too, Len didn't care, it was his fault anyway. If Palmer hadn't triggered the alarm, hadn't triggered the cage, hadn't been his annoying self while Len was trying to concentrate, this would have been a smash and grab. 

Len prepares himself and then a blast of fire hits Savage and throws him backwards. Len blinks for a moment. That wasn't him. Then Firestorm shouts out towards them and melts a hole into the cage. Len is by Micks side in a flash. 

“Mick!” there's blood at the side of his head and he grimaces in pain but he looks up at Len with clear eyes and a reassuring twist of his lips. 

“I'm okay.” he says and looks around for his heat-gun. “Let's burn this motherfucker.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They are in their quarters, having declared their continuation of the mission after Carters death. Len is straddling Micks lap and has Micks head tilted to the side, holding him steady with both hands. A warm, roughened tongue licks at his wound, cleaning the blood away. Micks hands wander up and down Lens back as he patiently waits for his partner to finish. The tingle and heat spreading from the wound is familiar after years, decades of this happening quite often. 

Len sighs and leans back, his teeth still slightly reddened by Micks blood. Micks fingers caress the new scar were a scabbed wound should be. 

“Won't the others question it?” Mick asks and Len just gives him one of his scathing looks (Mick always gets those when his dragon is worried about him).

“I'll just say I used a spell.” Len shrugs. “It worked before.” 

Mick reaches up and cups Lens face with his hands, planting kisses on his mouth and chin, kissing a smile into the corner of Lens mouth. His hands wander down his neck and settle on hard shoulders, stiff with tension. His fingers begin to dig into the muscles and Len groans against Micks skin. 

“I wish we could fly.” Mick says as Len lets out a particular soulful whine when Micks fingers press into a knot of tension. Len is practically latched onto him by now and Mick leans his head against his shoulder as his fingers continue to work. 

“They wouldn't let us go, at least not alone.” Len gets out between growls and whines. 

“What about Sara? You said she was a banshee?” Mick asks and Len sighs, but shakes his head. 

“No, just because she is part creature, doesn't mean I can trust her with this.” he states firmly.

“You almost shifted in that cage.” Mick points out. The arms around him tighten slightly. 

“You almost died.” is his answer. Micks heart beats loudly in his chest. He knows he is important to Len. Heck, he is the only human to have ever seen Len in his true form and live. He is the only one Len doesn't hide himself from. He is still always shocked at Lens vehemence to protect him. 

He holds onto Len. He will hold onto him as long as he is welcome. 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it :)


	6. Interlude: Mick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another look into the past.

Mick is eight and his parents have dragged his siblings and Mick to a fair. Mick grins at all the lights, the loud music and the rides. He pouts at his mum when she refuses to let him onto a free-fall tower, saying he is to young. His older sister sticks out her tongue at him, as she makes her way towards the cashier for a ticket. Mick vehemently ignores her and looks around for his dad, who was in charge of his two younger brothers and had gone to get some sweets. He doesn't see him, but something else catches his eye. 

He sends a quick glance towards his mum, who stares worriedly up at the _Tower of Doom_ and then slips away. He leaves the busy path and ducks into a more deserted part of the fair. There he walks up to the thing that had grabbed his attention. In a booth with bars and chains sits what he first thought was an old lady. Colorful letters proclaim this to be _The Fortune Hag!_ and as he steps closer, Micks eyes widen. 

The woman is wrinkled and hunched, instead of hair, dark gray feathers frame her face and her eyes are black, no iris, no whites, just black like two pieces of coal. She smiles as she notices him. Her teeth are two lines of yellow, sharp horn. She leans forward and the chains rattle with her shift. 

“Are you lost, little one?” she asks and her voice is rough, like sandpaper against his skin. Mick looks behind himself and can still see his mum in the crowd on the parallel path. He turns around and shakes his head. 

“I'm not lost, my mum is right there.” he says and points towards his mum. Black eyes seem to look behind him and the hag laughs delighted. 

“Why are you in a cage?” Mick asks, fingers reaching out towards metal bars. She looks back at him, her laughter silenced. 

“Because I am not human.” she answers, a curious glint in the darkness of her eyes. Micks little face scrunches up with a frown. 

“Is that a reason?” he asks further and the hag laughs again. Mick bristles, because he recognizes the laughter from the many adults, who think he is dim-witted. The hag tilts her head and smirks as if she could read his thoughts. 

“Do you want to know about you future?” she asks him instead of answering his question. Now Mick tilts his head, thinking for a moment before he nods.

“Okay, but I don't have money. I'll get my mum.” a flash of panic goes through black eyes. 

“No, that's okay, you can pay me with something else.” she says quickly. Micks face lights up, because he isn't sure his mum would've paid for this. 

“What do you want?” he wants to know, but the hag just shakes her head. 

“I will tell you after.” she says. (Adult Mick always sighs at that part of the memory, he was a stupid ass kid.) Mick nods. 

“What do I have to do?” he asks. She shifts her hands towards him (are those talons?) and curls her fingers. 

“You have to give me your hand. The left.” Mick only hesitates for a moment before he thrusts his hand through the bars and puts it into the hand of the old woman. Her skin is dry and her fingers bony, but warm. She leans over his hand, her eyes seem to gleam green and gold. She gasps. 

“You are touched by time and fire, child.” she begins and Mick frowns. What does that mean?

“Darkness lies ahead of you, darkness and pain, but also love and light. Oh child, you will be lost but if you go through time, you will have eternity.” she let's go of his hand and he pulls it back as if slapped. She looks at him with wonder. 

“Oh you must be a treasure, if one of them loves you so much.” Mick does not understand a thing she just said to him and he wants to dismiss it, but the memory burns itself into his mind. “My payment child, is the matchbox in your pocket.”

Micks hands go to his left pocket, where he had put the stolen box of matches just this morning. He doesn't want to give them to her, for a few sentences that don't make any sense to him, but a voice inside him urges him to pay her. Reluctantly he pulls out the box and gives it to her. She snatches them with inhuman speed. 

“What are you doing?” the voice of his father shouts from behind him and Mick is pulled away from the barred booth. “Get away from my son!” he shouts at the hag as he drags Mick back towards the crowded part of the fair, where the rest of his family awaits them. 

His father scolds him for running away and continues to rant about dangerous creatures and that they should all be locked away or killed. Mick just looks up at his mum, who presses her lips together in a white line, holding back the things she wants to say. 

Later in the evening, when his mum wraps him up in a blanket and gives him a kiss good night, she sits down at his bedside for a moment. 

“Are you okay, sweety?” she asks and caresses his head.

“I'm okay, mum.” Mick answers, tired from the adventures of the day. 

“Did the old woman say something to you?” she asks softly, her expression worried.

“Something about being lost in the dark and there being light and love. Some weird stuff about time.” Mick yawns. “I didn't get it.” 

His mother nods, a frown pulling at her brows. “Why was she locked up?” he asks her, knowing that she wouldn't laugh at him (she never laughs at him, but she always tries to make him laugh). 

“You know there is magic, right sweety?” she whispers, not wanting to be heard by anyone but him.

“Yes, like the stories nan always tells and daddy doesn't like.” Mick smiles, remembering the stories and warnings his nan always tells about imps and fairies, knights and princesses, sorcerers and spirits.

“That lady was a hag, a creature of magic. A lot of people are scared of magic and of everyone who uses it.” she explains. 

“Even if they're not evil?”

“Even if they're not evil.”

“That doesn't seem fair.” Mick yawns again. His mum laughs quietly, proud of her son. She plants a kiss on the top of his head. 

“It isn't.” she tucks at the blanket one last time. “Good night, sweety.”

“Good night, mum.”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it :)


	7. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I wanted to have this out by saturday, but something definitely conspired against me (I suspect the time masters *.*) because on the last days of my vacation my brand new laptop decided to break down. No problem, I will be home sunday at 5 pm, enough time to get everything from paper to my home PC and post the new chapter before I have to go to work monday. Yeah, no... I got stuck in traffic and got home around 10 pm instead...
> 
> So here is the new chapter :) hope you like it.

Jax had no idea why he was doing this. He should be back at the Waverider seeing if he could help with Kendra or wait for word from captain Hunter and Sara. Instead he is playing chauffeur to their resident criminals, flying them out to the middle of nowhere. 

“Can I ask, why you want me to fly you out here?” Jax asks Snart. The man just smiles at him patronizingly. 

“You can ask, but I'm sure you don't want to know.” is the answer he gets and suddenly he really isn't sure if he wants to know, because the arsonist in the corner of the ship is smiling so wide, Jax can almost count all of his teeth. Jax sets down the ship, landing at the edge of a forest. He starts to get up from his seat, when a firm hand lands on his shoulder and keeps him in place. 

“You stay here, kid.” a growl orders in his ear. 

“We'll be back in... three hours. Mick will have comms with him, in case our captain grows a pair and decides to use his resources.” Cold drawls and Mick squeezes Jax' shoulder, a terrible gleam in his eyes. It's pure self-preservation instincts when Jax begins nodding. 

“Okay, yeah. I'll wait here.” After the door closes behind the pair of thieves, Jax plays with the thought of just leaving them there, but he dismisses that thought almost instantly. He settles down to wait instead. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“ _Jax? Jax, come in!_ ” Jax startles awake, noticing the darkness outside. “ _Jefferson are you there?_ ”

“Ray? Professor?” Jax presses the button for the comms. “Everything okay?” 

“ _With us? Yes. But Sara and Captain Hunter are in need of assistance._ ” Stein answers him. Jax nods even though they cannot see it. 

“Okay, I... we're on our way as soon as possible, can you send me their location?” Jax looks at the screen and readies everything for their hasty flight back to Leipzig. He switches the lines on the comm and contacts Mick. There's terrible static coming through, like harsh winds blowing into the mic. 

“Um guys? Can you hear me? We're needed with captain Hunter and Sara. They're in trouble.” For a moment Jax thinks he hadn't been heard, but then he hears Micks voice over the white noise. 

“ _We're on our way back._ ” 

Jax starts the engines and opens the door at the side of the ship. Not two minutes later, Mick and Len run out of the woods, Snart pulling his shirt over his head and slipping into his parka (A fact Jax will ignore for now, but will probably be haunted by later.). 

“Come on, we need to go.” Jax shouts towards them and already turns back to the front of the ship, crashing into his seat and getting ready for flying out of there. Jax checks his screens one last time and waits for the two slightly disheveled criminals to sit down, before he initiates the jump towards their destination. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Saving the guy who so easily dismissed your input and value just hours ago, is a nice boost to ones ego. Len is pretty satisfied with the results of the day. He got to steal the key to the jump ship from their “Captain”, proving the man really isn't all that great. Mick and him got Jax to fly them out, away from the watch of the others and he got to stretch his wings for a few hours. He hasn't felt this relaxed in a while. 

They got Carters body back, temporarily killed Savage and Stein and Ray have saved Kendra. He would call it a successful day. And it just seems to get better. 

Len is smiling into Micks kiss as he is pressed against their bunk-door. 

“I believe Jax now thinks we're into fucking in the wilderness.” Len chuckles and Mick presses a grin against Lens jaw before he drags his teeth down his partners neck to his shoulder, making Len hiss with pleasure. Len relaxes into Micks hold, giving up all control to his partner. 

“I'm yours.” Len whispers and Micks arms tighten around him. Len feels nowhere as safe as in Micks arms. That could be because Micks arms are the only ones that have ever held him this intimately or it was just his own possessive, weak, trusting nature talking. But loving Mick was the only weakness he has only regretted once. 

Len moans into Micks mouth as he is lifted away from the door, his legs automatically wrap themselves around Micks waist, as strong hands hold him close. Mick spreads him out on the bed provided to them and takes his time freeing them both from their clothes. Len relaxes back into the sheets as Mick crawls over him and possessively takes his mouth. A thrill runs through the smaller man as his own possessive urges come forward. His hands glide along scarred skin, blunt nails scratching up Micks back, making his arsonist shiver. 

“I'm yours.” Len breathes against Micks shoulder as firm hands wander up and around his thighs.

“Yes.” Mick hisses into Lens ear as his fingers find their way inside his partner. “You're mine.”

The grin Len hides against scarred skin is blinding. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Mick is lying in the dark, eyes open while his hands slide up and down his dragons back. Despite the eventful day and the pleasant end of the evening he cannot sleep as his fingers caress the scars marring his partners skin. 

"What's on your mind, Mick?" Len asks, his breath soft against Micks chest. Mick stays silent for a moment, thinking, while one of his hands lands on a near fatal scar just to the side of Lens spine and the other presses into words that have been carved into Lens skin ages ago. Fingertips twitching over his own scarred skin remind him that his partner is still waiting for an answer.

"Your dad will be thrown into prison for the first time in a few days." he says and almost regrets it as Len tenses up in his arms. 

"You think we should stop it?" Len asks, his voice flat. 

"You told me he never laid a hand on you until he returned from prison." Mick reasons and tries to pull at the blanket to cover them more fully as the man in his arms grows cool. 

"I've thought about it." Len admits. "And if we were ten years later, or twelve, if I could be sure that Lisa is born, that I meet you..." Len sighs. "I'd probably do it." he finishes and relaxes back into Micks body. "All that pain and humiliation, all those doubts and the burning, exhausting rage is worth it, Mick. They led me to you." 

Mick can barely breathe, his chest hurts so much. How? How can Len, how can this mythical, powerful creature think so much of him, when Mick knows he isn't worth this. Not after all that he has done (his thoughts drift to a farmhouse on fire, to his sister, his brothers, his father, his mum.) His next breath is a shudder in the dark and Lens skin against his grows warmer, his dragon regulating his core temperature to comfort Mick. 

"I enjoyed our flight today. When we're back in our time we should make a stop in Germany, all those castles and crumbling fortresses, I was very tempted to land on one of these towers and spew some flames." Len chuckles. "Just like the old movies." Mick is thankful for the change of topic. He did enjoy their flight. There is nothing as thrilling as to fly a dragon. 

"Yeah, we should."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Next stop on their time traveling adventure is 1986. Breaking into the Pentagon, successfully if you don't count Kendra almost ruining everything by going mad. Len can cross that off his list of places to break into now. What they find from the files though is concerning and ruins his good mood. Even if he is on friendly terms with the Russians in Central City in the future, he has no desire for them to win the cold war. He prefers the only Firestorm to be on their team. 

Ray is chosen to seduce the lady scientist, while Len provides back up for the douche. Yeah, he still doesn't like him. But at least the chosen ballet is a good one. 

Len is not surprised, though slightly uncomfortable, when he has to take over the seduction of doctor Vostok. He quickly reads the scientist and relaxes. The lady wants pleasant company for the night, not necessarily in her bed, and he has no problem being a gentleman. If he can count another wallet to his collection, that's not his fault. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Mr. Rory, care to join me on a side mission?" Hunter asks and Mick is intrigued. He really has no desire to keep listening to Len being pleasant with a good looking, intelligent woman. (Who he doesn't want anything from, you know that Micky. (Does his inner voice start to sound like Lisa?))

"What are the chances of me getting to burn something?" he asks, a dangerous glint in his eyes. If he can't set fire to the Russian scientist, he can at least take out his frustrations on someone else. 

"Chances are pretty good." is his answer. He growls in assent and starts to follow their captain. 

Turns out he doesn't get to use his heatgun. 

"It's a trap, you know." Mick opens the conversation, after the posh time master has left. Hunter shakes his head and Mick suppresses the urge to strangle him. 

"No, you don't know him like I do, that man was my mentor. He wouldn't betray me."

"That man wants to get us all into one place of his choosing to kill us in one clean sweep." Mick gets into the other mans face, using his height and stature to get his point across. "Trust me, I've got way more experience with betrayals than you do."

"In your line of work, I have no doubts about that, Mr. Rory, but until proven wrong I trust that man." Hunter insists. Mick shrugs and turns to leave. 

"That's your funeral." Can't help a man who doesn't want to be helped. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The day ends in disaster. Len wants to spit fire, but calms himself with the cool grip of the cold gun. The confrontation with Hunter is not helping. Seething he leaves the captain, intimidated with slight frostbite but otherwise unharmed, and stalks back to their quarters. He closes the door behind himself and wishes he could slam it shut. 

He breathes deeply and has to rub at his eyes, getting rid of the traitorous moisture gathering there as he is surrounded by Micks scent. Stupid, self-sacrificing Mick, who told Len to go without him, to finish the mission. Who is now being transported to a Russian prison, along with Stein and Ray, on his way to being tortured so Stein will talk. Len wants to scream. 

Instead he takes another deep breath. 

"Gideon, I need the known blue-prints of that gulag, please." The tablet on the side-desk lights up. 

"Of course, Mr. Snart." the AI answers promptly. Len sits down on their bed, trying to ignore the cloud of comfort Micks scent provides him. He studies the blue-prints for a while, but gets interrupted after a few moments of reading. 

"Mr. Snart, if I can provide you with something to calm yourself, I will gladly do so." Gideon initiates a conversation. Len frowns. 

"What gives you the idea that I am not calm?" he asks. 

"Despite the fact that I scan all the biometrics of the passengers on board, I also have to struggle to keep the air in your quarters non-combustible." Len freezes and his heart-rate sky-rockets. "I assure you that no-one knows of your condition, Mr. Snart." 

“Why?” Len asks, suspicious of this behavior from the AI that had been totally loyal to its captain until then. 

“I tried to point it out to captain Hunter, but he ordered me to keep silent on the matter.” there is a moment of silence, then. “And my creator was of the opinion that revealing someones status in the supernatural is rude without permission.” 

Len raises his eyebrows at that, wondering what kind of person would create an AI like Gideon. He dismisses that thought and concentrates on his breathing for a moment. Turns out he had started to lose a little bit of control over the chemicals he was breathing out. Taking a deep breath, he focuses on the inner workings of his lungs for a moment, trying to calm down the anger coursing through his veins. When he breaths out it is a normal stream of air.

“Thank you, Mr. Snart.”

“No problem, Gideon.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sara leaves the meeting with Rip, Kendra and Jax slightly frustrated and very worried. That Snart hadn't been there was very telling, almost as telling as the traces of frostbite on Rips face. Apparently she wasn't the only one pissed of about the lack of back up on this mission. But they now had to focus on getting the other half of the team back first, any accusations could be dealt out later. 

The White Canary makes her way down the corridor towards her quarters and finds herself stopping in front of Snarts and Rorys door instead. 

Waking up a banshee after dying was not as surprising as waking up at all. She had known she had the potential, a lot of the women in her family have. But the powers are latent and have to be unlocked. Most of the time through great emotional stress or near death experiences, but actually being dead and then brought back seems to do the trick as well. Since then, she doesn't just have to get used to the side effects of the Lazarus Pit, but also get used to her new powers. 

The most obvious about them is that she can now see if something has caused death. In the months she's been back in the world of the living she had to get used to her hands being a dark grey, to her blades shining black. Sometimes it is quite surprising (her dad has a black spoon amongst the cutlery inherited from his grandmother) other times it is distracting or horrifying. 

Mick Rorys hands were different shades of black, his knuckles and the span of his thumbs darker than the rest, while his partner is a whole other can of worms. Leonard Snarts fingertips were a solid black as well as his teeth. His teeth were a shiny obsidian. She would be a lot more disturbed by that, if she wasn't certain that Snart was some kind of creature in human disguise. She can only guess at what he is, something with with claws and fangs obviously, but that doesn't really narrow it down. 

Sara lifts her hand, intending to knock, but hesitates. Should she really disturb Snart? There was clearly more going on between their two resident thieves (Sara is still marvelling at how Rory had managed to capture any creatures loyalties, at the insanity to even try) and with one of them captured, at mercy in the hands of the enemy, the other is probably on edge. 

She knocks anyway. 

The door opens automatically and she finds Snart sitting on the floor, leaning against the bed (just one) furiously making notes as he studies the screen of the tablet balanced on his knees. 

“Hey Snart.” she greets him as she enters the room but stays by the door, sitting down and leaning against the wall. 

“Sara.” he replies, shooting her a glance before focusing back on his papers and tablet. She has noticed that he keeps using their first names instead of their family names (except for professor Stein,which is weird, thinking about it) and she knows that some of their group are slightly annoyed by it, while it mostly amuses her. 

“Already making plans, I see.” she continues. Snart sighs and for a moment he looks really young. But then Sara blinks and he is back to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“One of us should start with a plan, why not the one of us with the most experience.” he answers and raises an eyebrow at her. She snorts. 

“Not your first prison break, huh?” Sara teases and Snart huffs, involuntarily smirking at her. 

“And probably not my last.” he says making her laugh. 

“You need any help?” she asks. Snart looks at her, an amused glint in his eyes. 

“That depends, do you want to beat up some Russian mobsters?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Mick stares into the flame of the cheap lighter and tries to ignore the painful seizing of his muscles. Turns out electricity sucks. He prefers the simple pain of fire, it doesn't wreck your thoughts, doesn't mess with your coordination. He focuses on the tiny flame in his hand, trying to keep it steady, to calm his breathing, to relax the jitters in his limbs. He has to be ready, because they will be out of this soon. 

Seeing Len in that corridor, when they were escorted back to their cells, was like getting a glass of water after spending a week in the desert.

“You call that a flame?” his thoughts get interrupted by a familiar drawl. Mick looks up and for a moment he gets lost in sapphire blue. 

“Nice uniform.” he comments and Len grins at him, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Should I keep it?” his partner asks suggestively while opening the cell door and throwing Mick his own uniform. “Let's get out of here.” Len says as he puts Rays suit into the unconscious mans pocket. For the first time in years, Mick feels something like conflict.

“We can't just leave him here.” Mick protests calmly and Len tenses up.

“Mick we can't take him with us. Two guards wont be questioned, two guards with an unconscious prisoner, we'll be caught before one of us can turn a corner.” Mick steps up towards Len and raises one of his hands to lay on the side of Lens neck, his thumb stroking the side of his dragons jaw. The muscles under his hand are bands of steel, the pulse a rapid-fire staccato.

“He took a beating for me.” Mick explains and watches anger and resignation flicker in blue eyes.

“He would take a beating for a total stranger, Mick.” Len tries, but his voice tells Mick that he has already won.

“I wont go without him.” Mick says firmly and Len growls.

“If he is the reason we don't make it out of here, I'll rip him apart limb from limb myself.” he threatens and Mick nods. He wouldn't expect anything less. (Len is a possessive bastard, just ask everyone who's ever flirted with Mick, wait never mind, most of them have mysteriously disappeared.)

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They barely make it out unscathed, on the heels of an atomic explosion, so Len is still high strung as they escape into the time stream. So high strung that his instincts immediately tell him that something is wrong. There is that familiar feeling again, the one he can't put his finger on, the one that had haunted him since...

“Guys, Chronos is-” he tries to warn the others but before he can finish the sentence, the Waverider rocks with an explosion. They all jolt forwards in their seats as Hunter tries to escape the onslaught of enemy fire.

They are catapulted out of the time stream, into a crumbling world on fire and the bad feeling in his gut turns to lead. Len turns around to try to identify the source of his instincts screaming at him. But all he finds are burned out cars and crumbling houses.

“This is Star City.” Sara whispers besides him in realization and shock. 

“This is 2046.” 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harmony is about to end... sigh...  
> Hope you liked the chapter :)


	8. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, that episode which broke everything? It's happening.

As soon as they step out of the ship they are at arrow point of a masked vigilante. Len and Mick feel a little deja-vu being confronted with masked heroes again. Turns out this is not the original Green Arrow, but a kid named Connor, trying to get the city back under control. The team splits into two groups, one repairing the ship and the other going out to find the parts required to fix the time aspect of their ride.

It's just a few minutes after starting their journey into the city, when they are surprised by a small squadron of masked soldiers and they have to split up to avoid detection. Sara, Connor and Rip leave Mick and Len behind on the streets of an anarchist Star City. Groups of thugs roam the alleys, drunk, high and honestly boring. Were is the challenge when no-one is there to oppose you? When everything is just there to be taken? The real thing that bothers Len though, is the stink of foul magic everywhere. Doesn't matter where they go, the scent of twisted magic invades his senses, subtle but nevertheless present. 

Len and Mick had been told to stay where they were, when they had split up and wait for the trio to come back from finding the missing part to fix their time ship. But they have never been people who played by the rules. Some of the time it lands them in trouble. For example, being surrounded by a group of fore-mentioned thugs. Not that that is necessarily a bad thing. The leader of the group postures for his followers, leaving himself wide open for an attack in his arrogance and Lens partner has never been afraid to use that to his advantage. 

One moment the guy grins at them, thinking he's about to make an easy score, the next moment he has a burning hole in his chest and his goons are scrambling away from his body in shock. There is a sudden pulse in the air and Len frowns, nothing he can see, but something he can almost taste. While he looks around for the source of it, Mick steps towards the guy he just flambeed and strips him of the ridiculous fur coat he's wearing. As soon as his arsonist holds that piece of fabric fully in his hands, there is a sudden twist in his chest, agonizing and terrible.

“Mick!” he gasps, barely loud enough to hear. Micks hands glide over the fur and his eyes begin to gleam in an unfamiliar light. 

“This is a nice coat.” Mick says reverently. Len steps forward, trying to rip the coat away from him, but Mick is faster, throwing the fabric around his shoulders. The beacon that has been shining in Lens heart for over thirty years, dulls to a spark in the wind. He shivers as he is cut off, fear so powerful in his stomach that he is sick with it. 

“Mick, take that off.” he tries, his voice slightly shaking. 

“We could rule this city, Len.” Mick says his eyes gleaming and his grin too wide. “Nothing could stop us.” the thugs around them suddenly begin to stir and Len just notices now, that they have been unnaturally still, waiting for the winner to take the coat. 

“This city isn't real, Mick.” he denies, knowing it will not be welcomed. “This is not our future.”

“But it could be!” Mick insists, stepping forward and grabbing Lens arm, his fingers dig into Lens skin. “It could be our world on fire!”

“I don't want to see the world burn.” Len protests, his heart beating in his throat, though his voice is back to steady and cool. _He can't lose him, he can't lose him, he cannot!_ Mick laughs and it reminds Len of his dad, loud and without any humor. 

“Come on Len, let's have some fun!” the fingers leave bruises on his arm as Mick releases him and gets swept up by the cheering crowd, celebrating their new leader. For a moment Len is stunned by what just happened. _What?!_ This is powerful magic! How did he not notice that from miles away? The shock of separation sends shivers through him, the bond cultivated in decades snuffed out in a second. How? _Why?_

Len follows Mick, keeping a slight distance as he tries to understand this future and tries to ignore the throbbing pain radiating from finger-shaped bruises that is in sync with the pulsing agony of his heart. He has to keep cool. He has to figure this out and he has to get Mick _back_!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sara steps into the once familiar room. There are shredded plastic sheets, everything is full of dust and dark. Abandoned. She shortly closes her eyes and sees it as it should be, glowing screens, gleaming steel and the faint scent of sweat, leather and oil. She sighs, frustrated. 

Something creeks in the corner and she raises her flashlight, steadying her stance, just in case. Into the halo of her light steps a figure she has desperately missed in this future. Oliver.

“Sara.” he sounds surprised. “Is that you?” honest shock is on his face and it grows on her face as well as her gaze slides over him. He looks so old and broken. He's missing an arm. His gaze is dull, like in his dark hours, but now it seems a constant in his eyes. 

“Ollie!” Sara steps towards him and they share a short embrace, his arm clings to her as if he fears she is a dream. “What happened here?” she asks as they break apart, his hand resting on her arm. He shakes his head. Sara knows Rip has entered the room behind her and Connor is outside, on lookout for more of the troops they have encountered. Oliver shoots a look at Rip, frowning at the man, but focuses back on Sara. 

“It was really subtle at first.” he begins. “Probably twelve years after you left on the mission to kill Savage it started. People would form groups, spontaneously, without knowing each other and would do something, shopping, swimming, just harmless things. It started out with three to four people and we didn't notice it for months.” he took a shuddering breath and turned away, his fingers gliding over a dusty screen at his side, painting sigils. 

“Your dad noticed it first, his sensitivity to magic coming in handy.” he continues and Sara thinks of her dad and his slumbering banshee bloodline, rubbing at his head, frowning with the starts of a migraine. Her heart jumps to her throat when she realizes that he is probably dead. “By then it were ten to twenty people who would just band together, and soon after, it all escalated. Riots started, robberies, it was war on the streets. Everyone with magic in their blood was killed or chased out of the city. Thea was...” his voice shakes with pain and his breath stutters with grief. The Queen family is descended from priests and priestesses of the old magic, the traditions long gone, but a drop of that magic is in all of their blood. Making Oliver more resistant and Thea very good at manipulating people to her will.

“She died. A lot of people died. We tried to save them, but they had taken control of too many.” Oliver whispers. Sara can feel tears rolling down her cheeks. “Those of us who could, took as many as they were able and ran. The others... the others were lost.”

There is a crash at the front door and all three of them turn around, reaching for their weapons and taking on defensive positions. There is a moment of anticipation before all hell breaks lose. Men in black masks and Kevlar storm the hide-out, guns blazing. Sara doesn't know what happened to Connor, she tries to fight her way over to Rip and Oliver, but there are too many and then something dark and black builds in her throat and she just _screams_.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- 

Len is sitting in the corner of the sleazy pub they have found their way to, watching as Mick flirts and touches the women at the bar. He didn't think his chest could hurt much more, but as Mick grins and kisses both women in his arms, Len can't breathe through the pain. _It's not him_ , he convinces himself, _it's that fucking coat._ If he could, he would slash this whole place up, would kill everyone of these goons and burn that coat to ashes. 

But he is a dragon who has just lost his treasure, bound by his word not to kill innocents. If this was the strange kind of magic, the foul stench he has been tasting ever since they wandered deeper into the city, then these people were all out of their minds and guided by a will not their own. They were innocent. Now he just had to get his heart to shut up, as he watches Mick getting more handsy with the brunette chick. Lens limbs feel heavy, his ears are ringing, his lungs hurt, the flame inside him is barely flickering. Len has heard of this, has read of the depression of losing your most precious, he just never thought it would hit that hard this fast. His hands are shaking. 

He watches as Micks lips glide across the womans neck and the blonde behind him presses up against the arsonist. Agony is replaced by wrath and Len shoots from his chair, over to the bar where he shoves the girls away with maybe a little more force than necessary. He pulls Mick aside with the same strength, marveling that he at least still has that. 

“We have to get to Sara and Rip, they probably need our help.” he says and Mick frowns at him. The ringing in his ears grows louder.

“Why would they need us?” he asks sarcastically and Len has to suppress the urge to scream.

“We're on a mission, remember? We have to fix the Waverider to get out of here. We have heard no word from them in over an hour, the odds are spectacularly high that they are in some kind of trouble.” Len rattles of, trying to get through, pulling at the fur to no avail, it was like it was glued to Mick. “The team needs us.”

“There's no we, Len. It's just us. We don't need the team anymore.” Mick replies frowning. “Look around you Len, this is all we ever wanted, nothing can stop us.”

“Mick! Wake up!” Len almost shouts losing his patience. “This is crazy! This isn't you!”

“Just because you suddenly want to play hero, doesn't mean you have to drag me down with you, Snart.” Mick throws at him, eyes narrowed and angry. Len is taken aback by this. 

“You wanted to take Ray with us in that prison just hours ago, you were running to save Rip and Sara last week. It was you who wanted to go on this fucking mission!” Len says, seething. Mick growls and tries to grab for his arms again, but Len steps back, out of his reach. 

“Okay, okay.” he tries to breathe, tries to calm down, this is not the time and place. “Let's calm down a little. Breathe in.” the breath he takes is more for his own benefit than Micks. “And breathe out.” he holds his hands pacifyingly out to his sides. “How about we go help Rip and Sara and then we finish this discussion about staying here or not?” 

There is a silence between them that stretches for too long and Len braces himself, while rubbing at one of his ears. 

“Let's go.” Mick says and turns around. “Let's go find them and then we'll finish this.”

Len almost sighs in relief.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Rip dips his fingers at his ears and comes away with red. Still slightly bleeding then. At least the sounds have started to come back in and he can hear again. Most of the masked soldiers are down, taken out by Saras scream or a serious case of ice and fire. Working with Mick Rory really turns him away from barbecuing. Not that he is not grateful for their two burglars to have come to their rescue, its just that the smell of cooked meat is putting him off when it comes from humans. 

But they had lost Connor, the young man has been taken, abducted by whichever forces that rule Star City in this half-formed future. Which wasn't all that tragic, as this reality would vanish as soon as they left it. Rips fingers close around the software that would help get Gideon up again. 

“Good, thank you gentlemen for the timely arrival. We've got everything we need and can leave now.” he is about to turn around, knowing Sara will protest this, when Snart strikes Rory from behind and knocks him out. Queen immediately takes on a defensive position and Sara pulls a knife, though her expression shows the same confusion Rip is feeling. Cold starts to rip at the fur coat Rory seems to have acquired while they have been roaming the streets. There is a slight gasp of air from Queen and with a few steps he is at Snarts side, helping him to get the coat of. 

Rip starts to make his way over, but is held back by the vigilante.

“Stay away, we don't need you to be under the spell as well.” There is a lot of near silent cursing from Snart and the sound of ripping fabric until finally the coat is off and thrown into the corner of the room. Suddenly Rip feels the intense urge to go over and pick it up, but before he can even take a step, Cold grabs Rorys heat gun and shoots a steady stream of flames at the pile of fur. Snarts breath is unsteady over the roar of fire and his hands begin to shake as he releases the trigger. 

“It's still gone.” Cold whispers, his voice breaking. Sara walks over to Snart. 

“Len, you're bleeding.” she says softly and Snart looks up at her grinning a red smile without any humor. Blood is streaming out his nose, into his mouth, down his chin. The heat gun clatters to the ground and a moment later Snart follows it as he falls to his knees, hands clutching at Rory. 

“He's still gone.”

Rip tries to understand what is going on, he knows some kind of curse was apparently on the coat, but what it did, he had no idea. And they really needed to get out of there. 

“Guys, we can solve this later. We need to leave.” he says, but Sara looks up at him now. 

“We can't leave like this, Connor is captured, probably on his way to be killed and something is wrong with Mick and Len, we need to stop whatever has been happening in this city.” she counters vehemently her eyes narrowing at him. “I wont leave my city like this.”

“Sara, this city is just a vague possibility that will most likely never happen, as soon as we leave, it will cease to exist.” Rip tries to reason with her. Her gaze hardens.

“I wont leave without solving this.” 

“Do you know where they went?” Snart is joining their conversation, his voice distant. Ice-blue eyes look up at Queen. “Do you know where the source of all this lies?” The one-armed man nods and Snart stands, pulling Sara to his side. 

“You and Rip will take Mick back to the Waverider, fix the ship and wait for us, Sara and I will settle this.” Rip opens his mouth to protest, but the look Sara shoots him keeps him silent (she is a ninja-assassin after all). Queen looks at Snart for a long moment before he nods and bends down to lift Rory over his shoulder, Rip rushes forward to help the man. 

“This is a terrible idea, I hope you know that guys.” Rip says and calculates the odds in his head. “If you aren't back in two hours, we will leave without you.” he cautions, his only chance to stop them from risking everything for a future that may never exist. They ignore him, of course. 

“This was a terrible idea from the start.” Cold drawls as he passes them to get out the door. Queen tells Sara about the headquarters location and then she hurries after Snart. Rip sighs. While choosing the team, he had thought those two would be the least problematic of the team. Now, he doesn't know how he could ever have thought that. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sara doesn't know what to think of this. She's glad that Len helped her with getting Rip to agree to her trying to save this city, but on the same fact, Len looks like he might fall over any minute. His natural paleness has turned almost transparent, contrasting sickly against the still flowing blood, though that at least has slowed down to a less worrying speed. She thinks about asking about what is going on, but she doesn't want to lose her only ally in her mission. 

“What is the plan?” she asks instead. Len looks at her as they crouch around a corner, the former police station in their sight. There is a gathering outside of the building, a few of the masked soldiers they have seen and been attacked by before. Sara can see Connor being led up on a stage towards a chopping block. Her heart seizes at the sight. 

Len looks almost thoughtful, as if he is trying to decide something, then his gaze sharpens.

“I will burn everyone of them to ashes and tear that building down.” he says and steps back into the alley, starting to take his clothes off. Sara can barely register that answer before Len is stepping out of the alley, completely naked. She gets glimpses of various scars, before there is a minute shift in the very air around her and where her friend stood just a moment ago, a gigantic dragon had taken his place. The roar that follows shakes her to her bones and makes her heart want to jump out of her chest as every primal fear inside of her is surging through her blood. For a moment all she can do is watch as white flames consume whole groups of men, reducing them to crumbling coals within a just a few seconds. 

Most of the soldiers are dead when Sara gets her bearings back and starts rushing towards the stage to get to Connor. The dragon has stopped burning people, now he is closer to the stage as well and has started tearing into the few soldiers that are left with teeth and claws. Sara tries to ignore the sound of ripping flesh and crunching bones, but she knows that it will haunt her for a while. 

Connor has freed himself in all of the chaos, but Sara still has to drag him off that stage and back into the back-street from which they have started their attack. They both watch, stunned and frozen in shock as fire melts the stone of the police station, as claws tear apart the last struggling troops. 

She feels it the moment it happens, like releasing your breath after holding it for a very long time. The ominous feeling she hadn't even noticed before is gone. They did it! Or Len did, as he did most of the work. (A _dragon_! Mick Rory is _insane_!) The dragon though doesn't stop. He roars and continues to breathe white flames which radiate heat that burns her skin even from a hundred meters away. 

“We have to go, Sara.” Connor urges besides her. “Sara come on, before it sees us.” Connor drags her along and soon she is running alongside him towards the Waverider, the roar of a dragon still ringing in her ears. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The Waverider is back up and running and Len has just stumbled in, barely on time to not get left behind. He ignores the look Sara shoots him as he rushes towards the med-bay. When he finds that empty he runs towards Micks and his room, he freezes just outside. 

Mick is gathering his things, packing them into his duffel bag.

“Why is all of my stuff in your room?” Mick growls at him, his movements aggressive and erratic. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Lens breath seizes as his fears turn out to be true. He had felt it when he had destroyed the source of the foul magic, but the beacon inside him was still just a spark, no rekindling of the fire that had connected him to this one man. He stays silent as Mick brushes past him, their shoulders bumping hard, making Len stumble. He is still trying to get his bearings when he is pushed against the door-frame, hard fingers grabbing his arms. 

“You hit me again, Snart, it will be the last thing you do.” Mick shoves him into the room and leaves. Len can barely close the door behind himself before he crumbles to the floor. One hand is pressed to his mouth and the other is pressed to the middle of his chest. He feels like he is suffocating, the breaths he takes seem without oxygen and his throat feels far too small for any air to pass. He can't, he can't, he can't, he can't, he can't.

_He can't lose him!_

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Sigh* I don't like this, and it's going to get worse before it gets better...  
> Hope you enjoyed it :)


	9. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon? That's something you shoot with, right?

Mick is about to go up the walls. Not only had he been stuck in a time ship that was beginning to feel more like a tin can for a week, but he also was unable to sleep properly, making his temper flare hotly. Every night he tossed and turned, never finding a good position, almost as if something was missing. And if he finally got to sleep, he woke up a few minutes later, his chest hurting, his heart pounding in his throat and sick to his stomach with guilt. He can never remember why and it isn't helping with his levels of frustration. 

The others on the ship are keeping themselves busy. Hunter has locked himself away, trying to find the next clue to finding Savage again. Sara is most often seen with Kendra, training and talking. Ray is trying to talk with Kendra, if Mick didn't know any better he would think the man tries to flirt with the woman, or is tinkering with his suit. The Professor and Jax are trying to keep busy with books, cards or escaping each other (when Stein begins to rant about the wonders of physics or Jax shoots long glances in Kendras direction). 

What really worries him though is Snart. Len keeps mostly to his room, only appearing for lunch and dinner. Mick would be okay with that, he is still pissed at his partner for the stunt he pulled in 2046, but his partner in crime looks worse every time he sees him. Snart has always been pale (like snow, a thought flies and is forgotten) but now his skin is a sickly gray. His eyes that have always been sharp (why does he think of sapphires? No matter.) have lost all color and have become dull. 

Mick tried to talk to him (he does have a heart, and Len is his partner (his chest hurts, hurts, _hurts_ )) but every time he sees Len the anger wells up again and he turns away. 

Sara and Rip have told him some stuff about 2046 and curses, but every time Mick tries to remember what they said he can recall less of that conversation (he vaguely recalls Len saying something, but he can for the life of him say what it had been). All in all the last week has been frustrating as hell! What the fuck is going on?!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They're in space. At some point of time, but Sara doesn't know which time they're in because it doesn't really matter, because they are in space. With an unstable dragon, who could burst this little ship wide open and kill them all in an instant. With a cursed arsonist, who couldn't remember the truth they told him, and Sara shivers, suspecting that the curse destroyed whatever influence Mick had to control Snarts beast. Sara struggles. 

She has struggled the past week, while training Kendra, while trying not to succumb to cabin fever. She struggles to align the things she has seen, with the things she knows. 

She has seen Leonard Snart laugh and smile and exchange gentle, subtle gestures with Rory. He has seen him fight alongside the others and herself. She has heard his voice in her ear, ordering her not to kill Stein, when she almost had to. 

But she also knows of dragons. Though her family is deeply routed in magic with the banshee bloodline, they are closely entrenched in the _human_ culture of magic. Dragons are creatures of wild magic, elemental magic, blood and flesh. They are not to be confined, they are not to be thought of as tamable, as human. They are highly intelligent and they are one of the most dangerous creatures, almost impossible to kill. 

It clashes. What she sees and what she knows. 

She has to push that aside as they are being pulled into a trap with open eyes and before she knows it, she is imprisoned in an oxygen leaking room, which is steadily growing colder, with the object of her internal struggles. All the while Rip, Mick and Jax are on another time ship across space, held by space pirates and Kendra, Ray and Stein try to fix the hull and resolve the thing with the space pirates. Sara huffs, frustrated and sits down against one of the tube stations, trying to leach off the little heat they radiate. Len paces for a few more seconds and then sits down besides her. 

They had given up on talking awhile ago, but after long moments of silence, with Sara starting to shiver more and more, Snart shifts closer and puts his parka around her shoulders. Sara sighs as the stored heat in the fabric seeps into her skin. 

“Thank you.” she says and Len leans his head back against their backrest. 

“The cold doesn't bother me.” he shrugs and he is still so pale, sickly, she can see the veins in his throat. A flicker of worry settles in her chest. She tries to smile. 

“I would imagine it doesn't.” she agrees. For a moment he's very still besides her, barely breathing. 

“As the one with the most experience, what is death like?” he suddenly asks and Sara almost laughs at the question. No-one had dared to ask her that after she returned. But the situation negates the novelty of the question, as they are very likely to die in the next few minutes. 

“It's calm, silent... lonely.” she answers, because that is what she feels when she thinks back on it. “I hope the others are okay.” she tries to change the topic.

“Mick will keep them safe.” Len says before his eyes shutter and Sara begins to shiver again. He looks incredibly young in that moment. “Or the real Mick would.” he amends. “My Mick would.” he whispers.

“You care deeply for him.” Sara whispers, not a question, but he answers it anyway.

“I'm his. He's mine.” Len shrugs. “He will be again, should we get out of here.” He's so confusing, Sara thinks. She looks at him and sees a man in love. She looks at him and sees black teeth and remembers a beast tearing flesh and bone apart, burning a whole squadron of soldiers in an instant.

“The first time we met, I almost died.” he says and closes his eyes, a small smile plays at the edges of his mouth. Sara raises her eye-brows.

“Really?” she asks, cannot imagine Len ever being in much danger from anyone. 

“We met in juvie, me fourteen and the smallest kid in the bunch. Some other kids decided to teach me a lesson. I was about to get knifed, cold iron blade.” he grimaces and Sara shivers, familiar with the sting of that substance. “He saved me.” Len whispers, his breath a cloud of fog in the freezing air. “I had decided in that instance that he would be mine.”

Sara shivers again, not sure if it is the cold (of course it is the cold) or if it is the possessive line of Snarts lips. She's glad he has his eyes closed. 

“You'll get him back.” Sara whispers back, looking away because she is not sure, if she is lying. 

“If we make it out of here.” he replies, a hopeless smile in his voice. Sara smiles, for a moment forgetting what she sits besides, pretending that it's just her friend. 

“We will.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Len is frozen. In front of him stands Mick, finally looking him in the eyes, though with anger and frustration, but also with hope. Behind him are Sara and Ray, Kendra and Stein. He has to chose a side. 

His mind flashes with calculations, and he lifts his cold gun.

“I'm sorry.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“What will we do about him?” Kendra asks and Martin looks over towards their captain. He watches as the others look at Hunter. 

“What can we do?” Ray asks and Hunter shakes his head. 

“We can't trust him, he betrayed us. We can't keep him on the ship. We cannot bring him back to 2016, not when he knows all the people you're close to.” Rip points out. “It's not safe.”

Martin watches as they all dance around the topic. As they all struggle with the question of what to do with Mick Rory.

His eyes fall on Leonard. The young man hasn't changed all that much in the years since he last saw him. It has been twenty years (god, he feels _old_ ) since he pulled one of his brilliant students aside, just to find out that the young man wasn't actually enrolled in university. He had just sneaked in. Martin did not remember Ray (he never had paid all that much attention to the rich kids, he had always kept his eyes out for the underdogs) but he did remember Leonard. So much potential (as a lot of half-breeds have).

Their eyes meet and Martins heart sinks. 

“I'll handle it.” Leonard rasps, his voice a growl fighting its way out. Now every gaze shifts towards him and the level of tension rises between them as they jump to conclusions. Martin shakes his head. 

“You'll handle it?” Jax jumps in and Martin holds back a sigh. Sometimes Jax is too young and sometimes he is older than he should be. “How?”

“ _We_ will leave.” the air goes out of the room and everyone stills. After a while Rips shoulders sag and he nods.

“What? No!” “There has to be another way.” “This is stupid, he will kill you.” Kendra, Ray and Jax protest, but Sara stays silent and looks at Leonard with sad and understanding eyes. Martin too knows he cannot change this. (If it were Clarissa cursed and turned towards betraying him, wouldn't he do the same?)

“Stop!” Rip shouts and sighs as the three quiet down. He looks up at Leonard. “I cannot put you back into your time-line.” he cautions and cold, blue eyes study their captain.

“I am aware.” the thief drawls. “As long as this mission is ongoing, none of us can really go back, can they?” he continues. “But I want you to give me your word. Your _word_ that you will come and get us when you have finished this mission.” he holds out his hand and Martin holds his breath. He grew up in a community of peace and free love. He grew up among all kinds of magical creatures and half-breeds. He knows a binding promise when he sees one.

Rip takes the hand and shakes it. “I promise.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Mick screams. He screams because of the pulsing pain coursing through his body. He screams because of the anger pulsing in his veins. He screams because he is bound and cold faced men look down at him, making notes and adjusting levers, increasing the agony they torture him with. 

He screams because he remembers. He remembers _everything_. (Lens face as Micks fingers hold him, cruelly and carelessly leaving bruises too reminiscent of Lens father. Lens expression as Mick kisses those girls, as his hands slide over their curves. He can see Lens fire going out the moment he sees Mick packing his things, remembers the paleness of Lens skin, the panic, the agony in his eyes. He remembers the roar of fire as the time masters come for them, he remembers the rivers of steaming, too red blood and the cries of death.)

Mick screams as his guilt overshadows everything. 

This is his fault. It's his fault. 

He screams and wishes he could escape it, the guilt and the memories. He screams and he wishes he could kill them all, take away what _they_ love most. He screams and it feels like he has been screaming for lifetimes. 

Len. Len. Len. Len. Len. Len. Len. Len. _Len!_

Mick screams and wonders why he still lives, when he has lost everything that was worth being alive for.

The cold faced men adjust another lever and the pulsing agony increases. He hears the beeping of the monitors watching his heart-rate, his brainwaves, the stress on his organs. He can see them begin to flash red in the corner of his eyes. 

They will put him under soon and tomorrow will be another day of indoctrination. But for the moment.

He just screams.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do I keep breaking my heart? *sigh*  
> hope you liked it :)


	10. Interlude: Chronos

Interlude: Chronos

Chronos is lost in the gaze of the dragon. He has taken his helmet off, relaxing after just finishing a mission and being back at the Vanishing Point. He leans against the frozen space like a window to a cell. He does not know why he keeps coming here after missions. Why he takes his helmet off, even though it is not permitted. 

It's just, when he stands in front of the dragon, fierce, mid-roar and wounded, he wants to catch that blue gaze (Like gems? What kind?) with his own eyes. Sometimes, in the few hours of sleep he is granted, he dreams of the dragon, of white flames and shimmering scales. Of great wings and bone rattling roars, that wakes every primal survival instinct in the weak and the strong. 

He wakes up to the urge to smash the controls of that cell, to free the dragon from that pocket of frozen space. (He thinks he had a dream of trying that, of madly punching that barrier until his hands were bleeding, of being pulled away kicking and screaming. In those dreams he is not Chronos, though he does not remember who he was when he wakes up from the dream.) He raises his hand places it against the barrier. He watches as his hand presses harder, until his knuckles push white against his skin. Until it hurts.

Chronos doesn't feel the pain. He is lost in the gaze of the dragon. He doesn't see the cold eyes watching. Doesn't feel that he is pressing too close, too forceful. He doesn't notice the crackles of energy attacking him from the containment field. 

That gaze. 

His sight blurs and Chronos frowns as tears begin falling. 

( _What kind of gems?!_ )

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“It is not working properly.”

“It works sufficiently.”

“He always begins to remember, none of the other hunters remember.”

“None of the other hunters are bonded with a dragon.”

“It's too great a risk.”

“It's too great an opportunity.”

“What about the dragon?”

“What about it?” 

“Shouldn't we kill it? Should it ever get free, it'll have gone mad.”

“It will never get free.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Time at the Vanishing Point is an unchanging constant. It keeps going but it does not affect him. Chronos knows he has been here for years, knows that he should feel older, look older, but he doesn't. The Time Masters, the other hunters, the frozen prisoners, they all stay the same, nothing grows older in the Vanishing Point. The hours, days and months still go by (and sometimes he feels he has lost a month or two, but he can never be sure), it is difficult to keep them in order when he travels through different points of time, spents weeks away but arrives merely minutes after he left.

He knows the Time Masters have made him. He has had a life before this. (He has to have had a life before this, he can't remember getting those burn scars.) His name is not Chronos. It just is a designation, a file, a project, an _experiment_. He has a name, he just can't remember it. 

His feet carry him as if he is on auto-pilot, but Chronos does not worry, he knows where they are bringing him. As so often, they lead him to his dragon ( _his_ dragon?).

His eyes trail along the claws, the gashes left by cold-iron harpoons, the too red blood. Along the span of white wings, speckled and partly painted carmine. The crimson hand-prints at the dragons side, as if some-one had tried to stop the bleeding. (His hands twitch against his will.)

“I don't know who you are.” he whispers as he meets the dragons gaze. He gets lost again. He can feel the minutes drag along and changing nothing. 

“I don't know who I am.” Chronos turns away, gaze on the ground, stepping away.

(“ _Mick!_ ”)

Chronos freezes mid step. (He wakes up from dragon dreams and to new scars on his hands.)

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“You think he is ready?

“He has been in our service for more years than he has lived in the straight timeline.”

“He still keeps remembering.”

“He is our best hunter. His success-rate is near perfect. We have handled his episodes, we can handle them now.”

“Then it is time he fulfills the role, we have created him for.”

“Yes.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chronos has been summoned to the council of Time Masters and awaits his next mission. 

“Rip Hunter, former Time Master, has defected. He has built a team of unimportant heroes and criminals and plans to change the timeline.” One of the older Masters begins and the images begin to flicker before him on screens. 

“Your mission is to stop them in any way possible.” a female voice continues. 

“The timeline has to stay intact.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it :)


	11. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy :)

Martin is trying to figure out the serum to reverse the transformation of Jefferson, while Gideon is operating on his young partner. After being captured and turned into a hawk monster by Savage, they had to shoot Jefferson two times to bring him down and take him back to the ship. The AI is currently mending the tissue and flesh, while Martin is entrenched in calculations and chemical reactions, while also figuring out the “magical” aspect of it all. He's nearly there (he just has to stop thinking about the fact that Jeffersons life is at stake).

Kendra and Ray are still in town, packing up their stuff from the undercover-gig and Sara went to say good-bye to her lady-friend. Captain Hunter is somewhere around the ship, probably brooding in his office, thinking of the next way to find and stop Savage. 

“Eureka!” the Professor exclaims quietly as he finishes the last sequencing on the proteins. Now he just has to cross his fingers and hope that it works. He pulls the syringe from the machinery Gideon kindly provided for him and turns around to his grotesquely formed friend. 

“Is he stable, Gideon?” he asks the AI, as there is still some machinery moving around the bullet-wounds. 

“I am almost done, Professor.” the female voice replies kindly and Martin settles into a bedside chair to wait. It is a few minutes before Gideon gives the okay, and then Martin inserts the syringe into the IV from the saline bag. When he's done he settles back and waits. Slowly, but surely Jeffersons features begin to change and settle back into a familiar face. Hopefully his mind has also returned to him, but that has to be seen after the sedatives wear of. 

Martin is just about to reach out and pat the young mans hand, mostly to comfort himself that Jax is still alive, when a sudden crash rocks the Waverider. The older half of Firestorm almost falls out of the chair from the jolt of the time ship. He curses as he stumbles towards the door to find out what is going on. 

“Professor Stein, the ship is under attack. Captain Hunter is cornered on the bri-” the AI cuts out as if someone had pulled its plug. It's times like this that he misses the two thieves from their team. They really needed more firepower. 

He turns towards the direction of the manufacturing cabinet, hoping the machine that makes clothes can build some weapons as well. He is almost by the door when two shots zip just past him and green sparks stop him in his way.

“Please follow me onto the bridge, Professor.” a mechanically distorted voice demands and Martin turns around to find the time-hunter that has been on their heels from the beginning of their journey. With a laser rifle aimed at his chest, Martin slowly makes his way towards the bridge. He really hopes the other three are back in time to save them.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chronos frowns when he arrives in 2016, Central City, as everything seems familiar, though he knows he's never been here before. 

He hesitates in 1976, when he is hit by fire and ice and looks into faces that are awfully well-known (his own face, but so different). Gets frustrated when again and again the group of amateurs slips from his grasp (while deep in his minds he remembers, this is how it was and should be), time and again. 

He enjoys surprising them out of the shadows, when they step into the trap one of the Time Masters led them into. The hunter stumbles back into his time ship when his head hurts like it wants to split apart, after coming face to face with himself (but it is not _Chronos_ , another name). 

Chronos shoots them out of the time stream into a half formed time-line and falls towards his knees as his ship continues on through the vortex. He breathes the filtered air of his helmet. He hears the fine tuned machinery of his suit and armor. But his thoughts...

His thoughts whirl and whirl until he can't keep track of them, until they _hurt_ to think. The constant numbness inside him breaks and shatters and its pure _agony_. It's _glorious_. The storm inside him rages and thunders until he can't breath, until he has to pull his helmet off and still gasps for air. 

Oh god.

_Len!_

(Snow, sapphires, white fire, hot scales, wild roars, warm smiles, mischievous glances, soft lips and _ozone kisses_!)

His chest is a cave of excruciation and his fingers grasp at the armor, trying to find the blood that must be there. 

(“Hey Mick, thought I'd forget you?” “They're nothing, ignore the bruises, Micky.” “Your turn.” “I'm off to stretch my wings, I'll be back, no worries.” “You're mine.” “I love you.” “I've got to show you something.” “You're worth everything, Micky.” “Fly with me.” “Do you trust me?” “If you wanna go, we'll go.” “I really want that ruby.” “I'm yours.” “Take me, Mick.” “All that pain and humiliation, all those doubts and the burning exhausting rage is worth it, Mick. They led me to you.” “I wish you would.” “You call that a flame?” “ _Mick!_ ” “ _RUN!_ ”) 

Mick screams in pain and shock, panic and confusion as it all comes back. He's Mick. He's Mick. Chronos is not real. He is Mick Rory. He is a thief and a criminal. He is a killer and an arsonist. He's _real_. 

And Len... Oh god, Len. Len is the dragon. His dragon. Oh god, all that blood. All those wounds! 

Mick tries to still his shaking hands, tries to stop them from dismantling the armor. He can't, he can't. Stop, Mick. You have to stop and think! _Think!_

It's Len. He has to get him back. 

Oh god, all those years at the Vanishing Point. The prisoners were frozen, but they were always aware. He's insane, he has to be insane by now. 

“I don't care.” Mick growls to himself. His voice is like gravel, unused to speaking without the helmet with its filtered air. He wants Len back. 

He'll get him back. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- 

Ray and Kendra trail slightly behind her as they come up to the Waverider. Sara can hear them murmur sweet things to each other and she doesn't know if she wants to care about it. She's happy for Kendra to find someone so soon after Carters death, she really is. There is just that little voice in her head, where her magic starts to flow towards her heart and limbs, that the dead were not honored. That the period of mourning has not been fulfilled. 

She is brought out of her thoughts when they hear crashes from the ship and suddenly the engines are starting. She starts to run towards the Waverider and they barely make it onto the ship before it rises and jumps into the time stream. 

“What is happening?” Ray asks and both Kendra and Sara shush him as they silently and slowly make their way to the bridge. The ship is eerily quiet as there is no greeting from Gideon and no-one seems to be there. That is until they reach the bridge and get a glimpse inside. 

Rip and Martin are kneeling with the hands bound in front of them, while the imposing figure of Chronos stands before them, a rifle in his hands. 

“I would not worry, Professor Stein. The others will join us in a few seconds. You did not abandon them in a time where only one of them is accepted by society.” Sara stops breathing for a second as the mechanical voice echoes around them, she is slightly shocked that he knows they are here, but what really unsettles her is the grief surrounding him like a cloud. 

The most obvious of her banshee powers has always been the black tint to weapons, hands, _teeth_ or the scream but there are subtler aspects of it. A weeping woman is another name for what she is, because she feels the loss and the pain, the grief. With Len she could ignore it, because he wasn't human, she couldn't feel his emotions through the wild magic. With this man it is like a punch to her face. 

“Miss Lance, Miss Saunders and Mr. Palmer if you would please step out of the shadows, before I begin to shoot your captain.” Chronos demands and Sara builds up the shaky walls on her powers to ignore the turmoil from the hunter. They step onto the bridge with their hands raised. 

“What do you want?” Kendra asks and the masked man turns towards her. With a quick throw three shackles land at Kendras feet and Chronos gestures for her to pick them up. 

“If you would be so kind as to put those on to your two friends and yourself.” he orders and Kendra moves towards Sara first, pulling her arms behind her back. 

“In the front, if you please. Don't want to have any surprises.” Sara pulls her arms in front of her and Kendra closes the metal bands around her wrists. When they are all bound they turn towards Chronos and he gestures them to sit. While they tentatively sit down in the chairs, the hunter pulls Rip and the Professor from their knees and shoves them each into a chair as well. 

“Gideon, lower the safety belts and keep them locked.” Chronos orders the AI and Saras eyes widen when the AI answers. 

“Of course, Master Chronos.” When they are all bound and secured, Sara watches as the rifle gets lowered and the man relaxes slightly. 

“And what now, Chronos?” Rip speaks up. “You'll take us back to the Time Masters and they'll erase us from the timeline?” he tries to make it sound flippant, and it would be, if Sara wasn't sure that it was a definite possibility. A mechanical sigh escapes from the mask and Chronos sits down on the floor, facing his attentive audience. 

“No.” Chronos says and his hands lift to his helmet. There are mechanical sounds as gears shift and plates open. He removes the helmet and Sara is so shocked she forgets her shields. Again overwhelmed with grief that isn't her own, tears gather in her eyes. Oh no, not Len. Then, as thoughts begin to flow logically again, she sees the armor, the rifle and authority. She sees that face and gasps. 

“We didn't come back.” she whispers, the others hear her anyway and Rips eyes burn as they shift towards her. The familiar hazel gaze of Chronos meets her and Micks voice answers her. 

“No, you didn't come back for us. We waited for weeks, months. We had found our way to civilization, but they were afraid of us. Never been chased by a mob before.” his eyes trail the floor and Sara looks at her companions. Ray is frowning, but a glimmer of horror and understanding shines in his eyes, Kendra looks confused and Martin has closed his eyes with sorrow. Rip glares at Mick with distrust and suspicion. 

“The Time Masters found us soon after. We fought, but they overwhelmed us. They had cold-iron harpoons.” he whispers the last and Sara barely catches it. Awful pictures appear in her mind, a great white dragon roaring in agony as spikes of burning cold pierce his scales and wings. She tries to push them away, she doesn't want to imagine it. “They took us to the Vanishing Point, were they reformed me, took everything of me away and imprisoned Len.” 

“I've never seen him in the cubes.” Rip scoffs and Micks eyes blaze as they shift towards the captain. 

“You wouldn't recognize him.” Mick looks at the others, captures their gazes with his. “I need your help, to get Len back from the Time Masters.” 

Sara opens her mouth to reply, when Rip interrupts her. 

“No.” he refuses. “To ignore the fact that it is impossible, this obviously a trap. Why should we believe you?” This time Mick is the one who scoffs, but Rip is not answered by him but surprisingly, Martin speaks up. 

“I would imagine he could just bring us to the Time Masters now, it's not as if we could do anything about it. Why should he lie?” the Professor points out and Ray can't help but chime in. 

“I like our chances better, if we trust him, for now.” he smiles at Mick and Sara wants to shake her head at the man. He really is too good for the world. (Stupidly trusting, really.) Kendra studies Mick for several moments, her dark eyes seemingly reading his soul and then she nods. 

“I'm in. We are a team, we should have stayed together.” the reincarnated priestess joins in and Mick looks at Sara. Sara is finally secure behind her shields and shifts through her own mind and emotions. In the time they have worked together on this team, the two criminals have strangely become her friends and she doesn't have a lot of those. Seeing Mick as Chronos, knowing that Len is in the hands of people that want to erase their existence for trying to save billions of lives, there really is just one reply. 

“What is your plan?” 

TBC 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One freed, one to go. And we still have to kill Savage...  
> Let's do this :)  
> Hope you liked it.


	12. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm still alive. I'm so sorry for making you all wait for so long, but life and all that crap...  
> Hope you enjoy the new chapter :)

**Chapter Nine**

„I see you have successfully finished your mission, Chronos.“ one of the Time Masters greets the hunter. The man growls lowly and shoves his captive, so that he stumbles forward into the light of the room. 

„A pleasure that you could finally meet us, captain Hunter.“ another of the Time Masters speaks up from his seat in the ranks. „Where are the others of his group?“ the eyes of the council members in the room settle on Chronos and the armored man stands unflinching, his head tilting slightly in the direction of the speaker as he answers. 

„Two of them are being brought to the infirmary right now, the others are dead.“ the voice is distorted and cold. Captain Hunter shakes with rage and tries to jump the man. 

„You bastard! You traitorous son of a bitch, we should have never trusted you!“ Chronos turns to his former captain and leans towards the bound man. The whisper is loud enough to be heard by the Time Masters standing closest in the room. 

„You should have kept your promise, _captain_.“ the Hunter turns his back and leaves the bound captain in the hands of the Time Masters. “This wouldn't have happened, if you had kept your promise.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Pst, Sara?” Ray tries to get the attention of the assassin. She shoots a questioning look into his direction as they sneak from corridor to corridor, following the remembered map in their heads. 

“What is it, Palmer?” she whispers back. 

“Do you think Kendra will be okay?” he asks and regrets it when Sara looks at him as if he was insane. 

“I think she is a powerful magical being with the memory of two-hundred lifetimes, she'll be fine.” She halts and looks up at the door opposite them. “This should be it.” Ray looks down both corridors, hoping the little doohickeys he built to scramble the cameras wont cause too much attention. Sara takes out a key-card designed by Gideon with a virus to open this particular door. They will have five minutes before the system will notice the breach and then they had better be at the opposite side of the compound. 

With a deep breath from them both, Sara lets the card slide into the slot and they watch with baited breath as the red light starts blinking and then turns green with a hiss. They slip inside and take a look around. There is nothing sinister about it. Just a grand desk with a grander chair, some decorative pieces and some functional filing cabinets. 

“You take the desk, I take the cabinets.” Sara whispers and Ray makes his way over to the desk, a monstrosity of glass and steel. He starts to look through the files spread over its surface, through the drawers and then, after finding nothing, takes another look around the room. 

“If I were a thief..” he mumbles to himself, trying to think back to the night Len and Mick had brought him along to steal the dagger. Granted he hadn't been a big help, but he'd like to think he had learned some things. His gaze falls on a painting on the wall, some abstract thing in green and yellow and he steps up towards it. The billionaire leans sideways against the wall and tilts the painting slightly away from it. “Sara, could you get me the scissors from the desk please?” 

“What?” she looks up from the drawers of the filing cabinets. They have three minutes left. “Really?” she asks incredulous. “A safe behind a painting?”

“A booby trapped safe behind a painting, yes.” Ray takes the scissors from her and cuts through the thin wire connecting the painting with what he assumes is an alarm or a small explosive. He removes the painting and reveals a small safe with a combination lock. 

“We don't have the time to figure out the combination.” Sara states, her voice frustrated. Two minutes left. Ray grins at her. 

“We don't need to.” as he says it, he shrinks down, smaller, smaller, smaller until he is small enough to slide in between the workings of the tumblers and before they know it the safe clicks and Sara can turn the handle to open it. There are papers and cases of technology they don't recognize, but that is not why they are here. They grab the ring of futuristic keys and hightail it out of the room. 

“Let's get to the others.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Martin tries to subtly look around while he is brought to the infirmary. The bloody and burned clothing is sticking uncomfortably to his skin and he can imagine Jefferson isn't feeling any different about it in the stretcher besides him. They are rolled along corridors towards med bay and Martin is counting the cross-ways they pass. Thirty-two. Thirty-three. 

He can feel Jeffersons anxiousness through their connection and knows his partner is counting them as well. Forty-five. Forty-six.

Ray and Sara should have arrived at their destination by now and Kendra should be almost done with her part in their plan. Hopefully it all went according to plan.

Fifty-six. Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight – Martin bucks up from his stretcher, rolling to the side and off it, at the same time Jefferson does the same and with a flash of heat and light, Firestorm stands between medical personnel and three guards. In the distance an alarm goes off and they hope it is the one they planned for and not an alarm that means one of the others are captured. 

The guards try to shoot at them, but the only thing the men have are energy weapons and they absorb those easily. After knocking the guards out, the medics have already fled the scene and Firestorm is making his way down the corridor they had just passed. An alarm starts blaring behind them.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sneaking from one time-ship to the next, Kendra is barely more than a shadow. She's falling back on a spell she had learned in one of her previous lives and she is not looking forward to the headache she will have for the next three days. She hopes this is worth it. If they succeed she'll gladly suffer for it, she already made arrangements with Gideon to keep her room dark and soundproof, with bland, light food for the next days.

The shadow glides between the ships in the hangar, attaching small bits of machinery to the slots that Chronos had shown her. Sometimes it seems to have wings as it flies across to the next hangar, continuing to slip from ship to ship, making her way through all the assembled lines. 

She just finishes with the last one, when an alarm goes off, sirens wail in the distance and Kendra throws a quick look around, before she turns to one of the entrances into the main complex of the Vanishing Point and disappears down its darkness.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chronos lets his feet carry him into the all too familiar direction. His heart beats so hard he feels like it will jump from his chest any minute now. His hands are pulled into fists so they don't shake, so that the men and women he passes don't question him. 

He steps into the lift and waits for the doors to close, as he leaves the Time Masters and Rip behind. The captain of the Waverider can handle himself, the hunter had worked with him enough times to know at least that. 

The lift stops and his feet start their familiar walk again. He could close his eyes and would know the exact moment to stop and open them again to look at his dragon. At _Len_.

He comes to a halt in front of the containment-field. His gaze glides over the control-panel at the side, before he looks up at the dragon. Mick doesn't know how long he had been Chronos, has lost count of the years with the jumping through time and the time he lost in reconditioning. He just knows it feels like lifetimes. 

Mick looks up at Len, trying to catch the gaze of the great, frozen beast and wonders if there is anything left. If Len is still there or if he had lost him years ago to isolation. The prisoners were frozen in time, but they were aware. A cruel, inhuman form of imprisonment but so is enslaving someone by brainwashing him over and over again.

The former bank-robber and arsonist lifts his hand and presses it against the containment-field, enjoying the crackling of energy against his skin. Today, it would be over. One way or another, they would be free.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The dragon has been trapped for a long time. He knows this because there is the ticking of the seconds in the back of his mind from his human side and he has counted them. (5.847.779.762 since he started). Tick, tick, tick trickles through him as he tries to ignore the never ending agony from the never healing wounds. As he tries to ignore that he hasn't drawn breath in so, so long. That he hasn't blinked, hasn't moved one muscle. That his heart doesn't beat.

Tick, tick, tick.

His eyes are open and his head is tilted so that he can see outside of his confinement, though it is nothing exciting to look at a gray wall for years. But he is grateful, because sometimes his knight comes to visit. There is a light in the dragons soul, that he can still feel, and it shines from this man. His knight. His treasure.

Tick, tick, tick.

Sometimes the knight rages against the dragons cage. Then other men come and take the knight away. When he returns his knight is diminished, the light inside him pale and weak. The dragon makes sure that it always rekindles. The knight is marked as his. No-one will erase his mark from the knights soul!

Tick, tick, tick.

The dragon has forgotten his name long ago. Sometimes there are flickers, scenes of things and times long past, but they fade and he is aware of it. Every time he tries to remember the anger rises in his chest, it rises and spreads until all he can see is red. Until all he wants to see are oceans of fire and blood from the men that did this to him. Every time they take his knight away, every time he sees them strike the man down, every time they spill his blood. The rage inside him is like a sun waiting to explode and he can't wait for someone to make a mistake. _They will burn!_

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Jax and Martin arrive just after Mick, not as Firestorm but disguised in the armor of a hunter. They take a quick look around and freeze at the sight before them. The room itself is huge, though just three meters in, a sizzling barrier cuts the rest of the cell off and behind that is a sight none of them had ever seen or thought they'd ever see.

“Oh my god...” Martin whispers in shock and awe, taking his helmet off to reveal disbelieving eyes. Jax looks at his partner and then back at the giant, towering _dragon_ before them. It had been caught in motion and Jax' eyes roam the blood-stained scales, the deep gorges ripping down its back and sides, hand-prints in a red that is to bright to be human. Its teeth are bared and stained with darker blood, human blood. Its claws are curved and look ready to skewer ten men at once. The wings, his gaze gets caught on the wings. 

They are pulled close to the body and he can see one of them has been slashed with the same kind of weapon that had left the other wounds. He doesn't know why, but tears start to rise in his eyes and his chest feels as if it was too small. Jax had been raised with stories about all kinds of magical creatures, as most kids do, and he had even caught a glimpse of some of them in his life here and there. Dragons were the embodiment of freedom and were so rare, that they were thought extinct in most countries of the world. His nana still sang songs from her mother, were a dragon freed her from slavery and took her to more enlightened regions of the country.

To chain such a creature, to wound it so horribly...

“This is barbaric!” the young man spat and turned to Mick. Behind him Ray, Sara and Kendra joined them, the same armor disguising them as well, and he could hear their gasps as they saw the dragon. He takes a breath to vent his anger at this incomprehensible cruelty, but Sara distracts him from it. 

“No!” she rushes forward to Micks side. “Len?”

And that's when it hits him, it's when it hits them all. They were here to free Snart. They had been told to come here to his cell. The only one here was the dragon. _Snart was a dragon?!_

“What?” “Uh,wha- how?” “Oh, of course...” he heard the others mutter and exclaim. Mick turned towards them. 

“We don't have time for explanations, do you have the keys?” Jax tries not to shiver at his distorted voice and tries to reconnect his brain with his body. How? Leonard Snart had been human the last time he saw him. How was he a dragon?

Sara at least didn't seem to have the same problems. She reached to her side and pulled a ring with a dozen strange keys from her hip. Mick took them from her and turned towards the panel at the side of the room. The others started to follow and at that moment, everything turned downhills. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Micks hands are still shaking and the keys in his hands jingle slightly as he looks through them for the one he needs. In just a moment, Len will be free, just one more moment. 

“Freeze!”

“Hands in the air!”

“Throw away your weapons!”

“Nobody move!”

About twenty men storm the room, guns and energy-pistols aimed at everyone of them, unwavering. Mick freezes and sees from the corner of his eyes that the others do as well. He'll need just one moment. 

Two Time Masters arrive, flanking a bound and slightly beaten Rip Hunter and behind them Vandal Savage saunters in. There is a growl coming from his side and it takes a second before he realizes that it comes from Kendra. The young woman lunges forward and it is all the distraction he needs to insert the key, put in the code provided by Gideons hacking and twist it.

Everyone in the room freezes as the energy-field in the room flickers and dies. Mick turns around towards Len. Breathing Len. _Moving_ Len. 

Cold blue eyes gaze around the room before a low, unholy sound reverberats through the room and shakes their lungs. Mick knows that sound. He had heard it a long time ago. It is the breath before fire. 

A second later, the world bursts into flames.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it :)


	13. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is :) Enjoy!

**Chapter Ten**

This was a day of too many surprises. First he finds out that Chronos, the most fierce and most feared hunter of the Time Masters, is Mick Rory. Then he is lead before the Time Masters Council as a distraction and to try to find out what has been happening at the Vanishing Point. And now he tries to get his head around the fact, that Vandal Savage just entered the council chamber as if he owned the place! Rip tries to wrap his head around this and hopes that this would be the last of the shocks today.

“Why the _fuck_ is he here?” he spits at the Time Masters, his eyes finding his mentor in the crowd. Master Druce just shakes his head in disappointment. 

“Oh, didn't you know? I'm not that unfamiliar with time travel anymore. I made some friends.” Savage answers him, his dark eyes sparkling with malicious glee. “No, let me rephrase that, you brought them to me.”

“What?” Rip looks around himself at the other Time Masters. “Why is he here? He destroyed the world!” 

“Oh, did I?” Savage drawls, but gets interrupted by Master Druce. 

“I will take it from here, Masters. Maybe captain Hunter will recognize the error of his ways.” The Masters exchange long looks before they nod. 

“This is the last chance we will grant him, Druce. We will not give your student any more leeway should he refuse to cooperate after that.” a female Time Master Rip doesn't recognize speaks up. Master Druce seems unfazed as he nods and Rip suppresses a shudder of dread as he is lead outside a corridor on the other side of the room. A door he had never been allowed to go through before. 

“Did you ever wonder how we know to fix the Time Line?” Master Druce begins and Rip tries not to grimace. Of course he had wondered, he has a few theories. What comes next makes his blood run cold. The Oculus, his mission, his team, everything had been engineered by the Time Masters. Everything had been planned and guided, everything had been made destiny by the very people he had sworn his allegiance to. The takeover of the world by Savage, the purge of the supernatural, his families death. All stepping stones for the greater good. 

The former Time Master swallows convulsively as he remains quiet. He doesn't know yet if they know about the others, if they know about their plan. 

“I hope you can see know, why it had to happen like this, captain Hunter. If we want the world to survive, this is the only path.” 

“No.” slips out from between his lips, furious and wrathful. “No, I cannot see how destroying the world, almost destroying humanity, is the only way to save it.” Rip turns towards his former mentor, trying to see that he understood. “There is always another way.”

The gaze meeting his is resigned and Master Druce just shakes his head in disappointment.

“There isn't.” Druce turns away and Rip is grabbed by guards as he is dragged along again. “Now, let's stop your friends from doing something foolish.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The first blast took out six men. There had been six heavily armed, fully armored guards on the left side of Rip Hunter and the Time Masters and now, radiating a heat that blisters against his unprotected skin, there were six crumbling streaks of burning ash on a bubbling, charred stripe of concrete. 

“Get behind me!” Mick shouts to the team and pulls Sara with him as he backs away to the wall on the far side of the room. The others follow, though Rip is still stuck right in the middle with Time Master Druce and that bitch, Time Master Johnson. The remaining guards have started to fire their weapons at Len and Mick can't help but snarl with the dragon in fury. He lift his own weapon and opens fire on the remaining guards. Another blast of white, roaring fire later and the last of the guards are nothing more than ash and coal. 

Savage and the Time Masters are trying to back away, flinching away from the fire blasts, dragging Rip with them. The dragon throws them against a near wall with a swipe of his claw, snapping his jaw in annoyance as they try to shoot him. 

“Onehundredandeightyfive years, twohundredandtwentyfour days, nine hours, seventeen minutes and fourteen seconds.” the voice was more growl than words, but still Micks heart stopped in his chest as Lens voice shook the ash around them. “If I had the time, I'd find an equally long lasting and horrifying death for you, but as it is-” the dragon takes a step towards the pile of humans, struggling to get up from their fall. “I don't have the patience.”

There is that noise again. That rattling, echoing intake of air and Mick realized that Len will take out Rip as well. 

“No! Stop!” the dragon hesitates and Mick throws of his helmet as he runs and slides between Hunter and the dragon. Cold blue eyes narrow in on him and flames lick from the dragons nostrils with what Mick knows is irritation. “Not him.” Mick says, trying to keep his voice calm, while his heart beats in his throat. Len snarls at him, teeth a brilliant white.

“He is marked with betrayal, I can smell the stench on him. He is as guilty as them, knight.” Len replies and shifts his long neck so he can get to the four cowering idiots behind Mick. But Mick steps between him and his prey again. 

Knight? Why is Len calling him that? Mick takes the last few steps towards Rip and pulls him away from the others, pushing the dazed and coughing man towards Sara and Ray, kicking Savage down again, as the man tries to scramble away as well. He turns away towards the others and feels the heat at his back as the two Time Masters and Savage are engulfed in flames. His heart beats faster with the satisfaction of their screams. Then the dragon pushes him around and snarls in his face. 

“Do not come between me and them again, knight. These foul creatures took you from me, enslaved you and tried to erase your soul again and again.” Len growls, his voice trembling with wrath and fury. “And he is one of them!” the dragon snaps his teeth in Rips direction and this time Mick takes a step closer to Len. He reaches out and the palm of his hand settles on the smooth scales just behind the dragons jaw. 

“Not anymore. He's one of us now.” Mick tries to soothe. “Please, Len.”

The trembling scales beneath his hand still and for a moment Mick thinks that something had activated the containment-field again, but then a shudder goes through the great beast and his head comes to rest over Micks shoulder and side. 

“Is that my name?” Mick can barely hear the question, but it still freezes his blood. He lifts his arms around the neck of the dragon, of _Len_ and holds onto him. 

“Yes.” he breaths. “Yes, you are Len.” he presses a small kiss against white scales. “And I am Mick.” a whine escapes the fire breathing creature.

“Are you mine?” Len asks and Micks heart picks up in speed. 

“Yes.” he says, his voice sure and relieved. “I'm yours.” he takes a step back, though his hands remain on smooth scales as he catches Lens gaze. “And you belong to me.”

The dragon shifts back, lifting his head though not looking away from Mick. His blue eyes melt into dark sapphires, which hold a warmth Mick is awfully familiar with. As familiar as the pain growing in his chest. 

“Good.” Len grumbles, satisfied. The dragon turns towards the others and huffs a small cloud of smoke. “You have to leave. Others are coming, there are alarms going of in every station.”

Rip stays a few steps back, still staring at Len with wide, unbelieving eyes, while the rest of the team take a few steps forward. Sara and Jax tentatively reach out and lay their hands on white scales and dark-gray spikes. The dragon snarls slightly but lets them. His gaze drifts back to Mick and Mick heart stutters. 

“You have to leave, Mick. Take them and leave.” Len repeats, his voice becoming more urgent. 

“Not without you.” Mick says and the dragon chuckles without humor. 

“I can't go with you.” is his answer, calm and final. “I can't change back.” Micks eyes widen, ignores the gasps and startled noises from the others as he understands. As his eyes roam Lens form and find the deep gashes in his back, his wing and tail, all of them still bleeding. Not fatal for a dragon, but for a human.... the transformation would rip Len into pieces. 

“I can't leave you here.” Mick protests.

“There will no longer be a here, when I'm finished with this place.” the dragon leans down and affectionately bumps its snout against Micks chest, making his heart throb with agony. “Everything and everyone will cease to exist.” Smoke was leaking from his mouth, black and thick. “Good-bye, my knight.”

The next moment, Mick knew only darkness. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-.-.-.-.-

-.-.-

-

 

“Sir knight, sir knight!” calls a voice not louder than a whisper. Mick turns around and finds a tiny thing made from shadows and two sparks of fire flying towards him. He lifts his hand and lets it land on his palm, its wings barely visible, as if barely more than a thought. 

“Yes, ashen one?” he asks, no longer bothered by the mechanical voice that leaves his helmet. The last months had been... painful. He had woken up on the Waverider, Sara at his side with tears in her eyes. They told him about the Oculus, the destruction of the Vanishing Point, of the Time Masters, of Savage. Of having to leave Len behind. Of Lens death. 

He had left then. Had taken Chronos' armor and his jump-ship and had left the others. Now he was roaming time and space, searching for something he didn't know. (Oh, he knew what he was looking for, he just knew he would never find it. But maybe?) There was a space in his heart that felt empty, vacant and echoing. Echoing and waiting. There was something that refused to let him go, that kept him wandering and searching, that refuses to let him rest. That refuses to let him turn away and forget everything that lay behind him.

“A dragon appeared.” the tiny shadow says and Micks heart doubles its rhythm. “The lake were you first appeared, a dragon has come.”

“Show me.” he requests and he can barely make out a nod as the creature lifts itself back into the air and starts to lead him through the dark woods. Seeing Len again, bathed in moon-light and so young it is barely comprehensible, seizes his heart with vicious agony and tears slide along his skin, being absorbed by the black undersuit of his armor. He is so captured by the sight that he barely manages to answer the questions of the three tiny manifestations of magic surrounding him. 

“I lost him.” he barely brings himself to say it. “I lost him long ago and not long ago at all.” The next thing said by one of the creatures felt like a blow to the head. 

“It isn't lost.” he looks down at it and knows that they can feel the desperate hope in his chest. “You are its beacon, it will find you if you stand still long enough.” he forgets how to breathe. There is a coil of steel wrapping around his chest and it steals his breath. 

“You should go back and wait for it to find you.” one of the others said, its voice like the shadows they were made of, barely noticeable. 

“I will try.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Winter has just begun, the first snow is falling and Mick is back in his original timeline. 2016. Sara, Professor Stein, Jax, Ray and Hunter had gone back to adventuring through time, now having to take care of aberrations in the timeline after the Time Masters were destroyed. Kendra had gone back to her life, now that Savage had been erased from the Future, she could build a life without fear. 

Mick had kept himself out of the things going on in the city. He is currently standing at the edge of a lake, towering trees behind him and solid gray skies above that are releasing a flurry of fluffy snowflakes. They had come here often, Len and him. He is probably the only human to have ever stepped foot here, into one of the few places left were magic still resided fully unbound. Sometimes he got a glimpse of a snow-fairy twirling between the crystals of ice, dancing and laughing. 

He burrows his chin a little deeper into the warm scarf around his neck and pushes his gloved hands deeper into the warmth of his pockets, as his gaze drifts across the dark waves in front of him. It's peaceful. 

“It's beautiful.” Len steps up at his side and leans against him. Mick automatically shifts one arm around him and looks at him, trying to decide if he was an illusion. Blue eyes gaze back at him, familiar with warmth and happiness. “Found you.”

“Are... you real?” the smile to that question is blinding. Mick gazes at him, the new scars on his face, takes in the comforting weight and form against him. Len shifts and places a small, hot kiss against his cold lips. 

“I'm real.” he says, looking at Mick and though he can see a lingering darkness in the eyes of his dragon, there was also the love, pride and warmth he had always seen in them. “I'm real and I'm here.”

Mick shifts so one of his arms is around Lens waist and his other hand rests along the back of Lens head. “You're back.” he says, still in disbelieve, while his heart tentatively begins to grasp what he sees. 

“I am.” Len replies, his nose nuzzling against Micks. “Now kiss me, you big oaf.”

Mick had never been able to deny Len anything. Why start now?

For the first time in decades, his chest stops hurting. 

They are home. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uff, done. Thank you to all of you lovely people from the comments and all of you who left a kudo! You kept me writing and inspired :D I love all of you guys and I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did.


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